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<title>How To Get Your Enemy To Fall In Love With You In Twenty Steps by 6_impossiblethings, barnesinc</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25805332">How To Get Your Enemy To Fall In Love With You In Twenty Steps</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/6_impossiblethings/pseuds/6_impossiblethings'>6_impossiblethings</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/barnesinc/pseuds/barnesinc'>barnesinc</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Red White &amp; Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Compliant, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Internalised homophobia is mentioned, Jealousy, M/M, Mentions/references of Homophobia, POV Henry, RWRB according to Henry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 10:55:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>53,203</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25805332</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/6_impossiblethings/pseuds/6_impossiblethings, https://archiveofourown.org/users/barnesinc/pseuds/barnesinc</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Henry had been perfectly content to stay far away from Alex Claremont-Diaz and admire him from afar. After their fight at his brother's wedding, Henry cannot believe he's being forced into some fake friendship with his enemy, who he has a huge raging crush on. It can  only lead to disaster for Henry. Now that he has the chance to know Alex, can he get the man to like him?</p><p>Featuring: fake friendship, too much involvement from the press and media, emails, jaffa cake talk, david, and too many feelings</p><p>_______________</p><p>RWRB according to Henry</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, June Claremont-Diaz/Nora Holleran/Percy "Pez" Okonjo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>142</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>521</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Step 1: Ruin your brother's wedding (sort of) (by accident)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>CW: mentions of grief, past character death</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Getting everything ready for Philip's wedding was becoming painful.</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>Everything had to be perfect. They needed the best outfits, food, music, and decorations. However, Henry was refusing to play the part of the perfect prince. This was mainly why his grandmother was constantly yelling at him for not having found a date. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>He simply did not have the energy to entertain some society girl when <em> he  </em>would be there.</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>When he saw Alex had RSVP’ed yes, he knew he would either be a terrible date or have to go alone. He’d probably spend the night distracted by him and watching from afar.</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>Even though Alex hated him for some reason. Ever since they first met, it was like Alex had it out for him. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>Henry recalled seeing him for the first time.</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Henry was unenthusiastically attending the diving finals. It would seem that his father’s death from last year wasn’t enough reason to allow Henry to stay home. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “It’s your royal duty to attend” was a line he had grown tired of hearing and didn’t even put up much of a fight over it. No one could go against his grandmother and win. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Henry was exhausted from trying.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Right before the event started, the Trio had wandered in. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Henry perked up slightly at their entrance. He had been intrigued by them since they were quickly becoming icons of America during the newest presidential race. He had vaguely heard about June, Nora, and Alex from some meeting he was forced to attend.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Somewhere in the back of his mind, he remembered someone had started comparing Alex to Henry. Both about the same age and sons of political leaders for their respective nations.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Henry had only seen Alex’s picture a few times, but there was something about Alex that Henry was attracted to. Maybe it was the curly hair or brown eyes, Henry wasn’t sure. The infectious laugh and smile he was witnessing before him was too much.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em> It was certainly too much for Henry who was content to stay in grieving. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em> So when Alex came over to introduce himself, he was polite, but Henry couldn’t manage to be friends with someone like that right now. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em> It would burn Henry alive and he barely had enough to keep going right now. There wasn’t enough of him to share with someone like that. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em> He told Shaan to get rid of Alex and went to go sit in the bathroom until the event was over. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>Now here Henry stood. At the reception to his brother’s wedding secretly watching that same brilliant smile cross Alex’s face. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>Part of him hoped Alex would come and talk to him, but the other half knew nothing good would come of it.</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>Instead, he asked June to dance. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>Objectively, Henry knew she was beautiful and America’s sweetheart. To him though, Alex shined much brighter. He caught sight of Alex watching them during the dance and became distracted. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>He wouldn’t admit it, but he was pleased Alex was acknowledging him. In some way at least.</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>When it was over, Henry parted with June to go greet some other guests.</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>After enough socializing, he goes to grab a glass of wine off a passing tray, swirling the liquid in the glass, feigning interest in watching Phillip and his bride dancing on the ballroom floor. He’s interrupted when he hears the sound of Alex’s voice, startling him for a brief moment before relaxing. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>“Alex,” Henry says, a smile ghosting his lips. Alex says it in that smooth, chaste mannerism that’s wrapped like velvet against his tongue, and despite the clear hatred settled in Alex’s eyes, Henry can’t help but feel enamored. Though, he supposed, he’s always had. “I wondered if I’d have the pleasure.” </p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>“Looks like it’s your lucky day,” Alex returns, smiling with fake sincerity that Henry was all too familiar with. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>“Truly a momentous occasion,” Henry agrees, lips tipped up into a small smile, which only seems to berate Alex even further.</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>They’ve known each other for a while now, and the case of Alex Claremont Diaz still baffles him to no end. It was blatant that Alex hated him - he just didn’t understand why. Even when they initially met, despite the turmoil Henry faced during that time, Alex caught his eye. There wasn’t a simple explanation, Alex just slipped underneath Henry’s skin and never got out. With ample the curve of his mouth, the set of his jaw, eyes that were the color of hazelnuts and pinecones, and the glint resting inside his eyes. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>But then again, it didn’t matter. It was a measly crush. Nothing would come of it; his Grandmother made sure of that. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>“Do you ever get tired,” Alex says, “of pretending you’re over all this?” </p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>Henry turns and stares at him. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” </p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>“I mean, you’re out here, getting the photographers to chase you around, swanning around you like you hate the attention, which you clearly don’t, since with my sister, of all people,” Alex says. “You act like you’re too important to be anywhere, ever. Doesn’t that get exhausting?” </p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>“I’m...a bit more complicated than that,” Henry says weakly. It’s not like he’s lying, either. It was definitely a little more than complicated. It was more <em> complex  </em>than a cat’s cradle. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>“<em> Ha </em>.” </p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>“Oh,” Henry says, feeling a little lost for words. Alex was <em> drunk </em> . In any other case, Henry would’ve kept Phillip, the royal wedding, and his family’s reputation in mind, but because this is Alex, who lives in Henry’s head and heart, so he lets his concern take over instead. “You’re  <em> drunk </em>.” </p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>“I’m just saying,” Alex goes on, placing his elbow on Henry’s shoulder. Henry almost jolts at the sudden touch. He insides turn to placid when he turns to stare back at Alex, trying hard not to let his demeanor slip. Henry was the Prince of England; the one who always smiled, and never let a distasteful word slip out of his mouth. Henry was the one whose personality was contained into a small box, just like everything else that made him, <em> him </em> , was too. “You could try to act like you’re fun.  <em> Occasionally </em>.” </p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p><em> He doesn’t know the first thing about me </em>, Henry thinks. He feels anger and frustration grinding against his gut, unfettered emotions clinging against him like a second skin. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>“I think you should try sticking to water, Alex.” </p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>“Should I? Am I offending you? Sorry I’m not obsessed with you like everyone else. I know that must be confusing for you.” </p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>“Do you know what?” Henry replies, “I think you are.” </p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>Alex’s mouth falls, and Henry thinks he might’ve surprised him a little. Not in the same way he always wanted to though. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>“Only a thought,” Henry says, weaving the politeness back into his voice. “Have you ever noticed I have never once approached you and have been exhaustively civil every time we’ve spoken? Yet here you are, seeking me out again.” He takes a sip of his champagne. He feels Alex’s eyes on him. “Simply an observation.” </p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>“What? I’m not-” Alex stammers. “You’re the-” </p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>“Have a lovely evening, Alex,” Henry politely returns, not sparing him another glance, walking in the other direction. To be frank, his words feel a little fickle and useless against his tongue. He adds another smile - pristine and perfect, that usually was reserved for paparazzi - so people would remain blind to the truth. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>He feels suppressed anger, burning like acid against his tongue. He swallows it down, and sharply inhales.</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>However, before he could take another step, he felt something dragging him down. He turns and catches the sight of Alex, and pushes him away; feeling everything he’s ever been taught slipping away, exposing a fragment of him to Alex that was never meant to see the light of day. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>And Henry barely witnesses what happens next, but before he could stop it, he finds himself tumbling over, and to his absolute horror, watches the cake come crashing down, along with Alex. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>His avalanche of thoughts burns right down to his skull - pulsating, rippling, plaguing his head with brittle thoughts and words, the dire consequences swimming through his head - and the flash of the camera doesn’t make him feel better, either. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>There wasn’t much of a polite way to construct this. All he knew was that he was equally, and inevitably fucked. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>“Oh Jesus fucking <em> Christ”  </em>is what slips out of Henry as the cameras continue to flash.</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p><em> At least me dancing with June won’t be the biggest story of this wedding </em> is what Henry thinks distantly.</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Step 2: Inviting him to your family's home and late night ice cream dates</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, what? He’s coming here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shaan seemed a little anxious when he broke the news to Henry that Alex, his newest best friend, would be visiting that weekend. Henry cursed himself for letting the world now think they were at war with the United States because Alex Claremont Diaz couldn’t leave him alone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, and by the way, here is a list Zahra provided about Alex’s favorite things. He’s been given one for you as well.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry rolled his eyes and took the sheet from him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At a quick glance, he was surprised how much stuff he already seemed to know. The rest of it seemed so purely Alex it had to be true. Henry was certain they had fabricated details of Henry’s just as they had when he spoke to the press about anything personal.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Education: Currently attending Georgetown University, Major - Political Science</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Favorite sport: Lacrosse</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Best friends: Nora Holleran, Liam Kerr</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Truthfully, the only thing on there Henry didn’t recognize was that Liam guy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t take another look at the list the whole week. Instead, he texted Pez non stop about the situation. How was he supposed to be around Alex for a whole weekend? How was he supposed to pretend to be best friends with someone who apparently hated him? Someone who he was incredibly attracted to?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was going to be a disaster, honestly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry would have to fight to keep that secret every moment during their time together.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The week dragged on and Henry was a mess. He stayed up every night fretting over how he was supposed to smooth things over with Alex. He ate through an entire box of Cornettos in three days.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally, Saturday arrived. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry woke up and tried to pretend everything was normal. He ate breakfast and prepared for polo practice. He tried to ignore any signs of the preparation for Alex’s arrival. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He ran through drills and rode around on his horse until someone called out to him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was time. Alex was on his way over to the stables.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry cursed himself for keeping his morning practice as he would now meet Alex looking disheveled. As if he needed to give Alex anymore ammo against him. He rode his horse over towards the entrance to greet him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And there he was. Walking towards Henry now with such easy confidence for someone who was entering enemy territory. Suddenly, Henry was thankful for the extra height over Alex. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to throw up on you” is how Alex greets Henry. Henry immediately cursed himself for not putting up more of a fight about this new fake friendship.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Alex,” Henry tries to remain polite. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s about to be a long weeken</span>
  </em>
  <span>d, he thinks to himself. “You look...sober.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex attempted some sort of mock-bow as he said, “only for you, your Highness.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Some of Henry’s self control slipped. He heard the sharpness in his tone enter as he responded, “you’re too kind.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He tries to recover by dismounting and holding one hand out for Alex to shake. He’s looking at Henry’s hand like he’s never hated anything more in his life. He finally grasps it and grunts “This is idiotic. Let’s get this over with.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A camera flashes to let them know they’ve captured this moment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’d rather be waterboarded,”  Henry surprises himself almost as he says that. To risk angering Alex even more, “Your country could probably arrange that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex responds by laughing. Henry can tell it’s fake, but it still probably looks radiant for the cameras. America’s golden boy laughing at whatever his best friend, the Prince of England, says. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It couldn’t be further from the truth as Alex tells him, “go fuck yourself.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hardly enough time.” They finally release hands and Shaan comes over to them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He greets Henry with a “Your Highness, the photographers should have what he needs, so if you’re ready, the car is waiting.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry looks at Alex, “Shall we?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>___________________________________</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry attempts to get ready for bed but he knows it's futile. He is heading towards yet another sleepless night.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He can sense his own restlessness and turns back on </span>
  <em>
    <span>British Bake Off</span>
  </em>
  <span> for the third time that evening. After watching about five minutes, he turns it off again. He switches over to putting earbuds in and plays the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Pride and Prejudice </span>
  </em>
  <span>audiobook.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Still bored, he decides to go looking for a snack.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He walks over to his kitchen and looks through different cabinets. Unsatisfied, he looks in the freezer in hopes that they re-stocked his ice cream.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He pulls on the handle and is greeted with an empty freezer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Disappointment settles in before he remembers hearing Alex requested ice cream for his suite. Henry calculates his want of ice cream and risks running into Alex. He guesses Alex must be passed out and tired from jet lag and decides to go raid his pantry. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry is thankful for the first time this weekend that Alex is here. If only because it means they stocked him up on food. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The walk over to Alex’s set of rooms is only a few minutes but Henry gets lost in the story. Even though he’s read it numerous times, he still loves it. Right now, Elizabeth is overhearing Mr. Darcy say she is only “barely tolerable”. Henry always feels a little bad for Mr. Darcy since Elizabeth holds a grudge against him for this comment for most of the book when it is so obvious his feelings for Elizabeth have changed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He yawns as he walks over to the bridge but stops abruptly. He’s so distracted, he doesn’t even notice the kitchen isn’t empty when he walks in. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex is there sitting on the counter on the phone with someone. He looks peaceful for once. Subconsciously, Henry notices Alex is wearing glasses.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He realizes what he must look like and attempts to pull himself together. Pulling out his earbuds, he attempts to explain his presence, “Hello. Sorry. Er. I was just…” and gestures over to the freezer “Cornettos.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex looks totally thrown by his appearance. “What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry moves to the freezer and pulls out the box of ice cream cones and shows him. “I was out. Knew they’d stocked you up,” he attempts to explain. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you raid the kitchens of all of your guests?” Alex asks him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s too tired to fight back. “Only when I can’t sleep, which is always.” He pauses for a moment still feeling awkward, “didn’t think you’d be awake.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He waits for Alex to tell him he can take one. Alex seems to catch on to the reason for his hesitation and nods. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry takes one out of the box and looks back up at Alex. He should just go back to his rooms, but he wants some reassurance about tomorrow. His grandmother has been pissed at him ever since his scandal put disgrace on their family at the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Royal Wedding.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Have you practiced what you’ll say tomorrow?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Apparently, this is the wrong thing to say. Alex shifts from confusion to annoyance in an instant, “Yes. You’re not the only professional here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t know how to explain the need for this to go well. To get his grandmother off his back again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t mean-” he gets out as he struggles, “I only mean, do you think we should, er rehearse?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex challenges him, “Do you need to?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry struggles. Does he admit he wants to so things go smoothly? Does he have to explain then why he needs them to go smoothly?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought it might help,” is what Henry goes with.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex rolls his eyes and hops down. “Watch this,” Alex tells him. As if Henry had the power to do anything else.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He unlocks his phone and seems to take a picture with the ice cream box and Henry behind it. He fiddles with his phone for a few more seconds and emotionlessly reads out, “Nothing cures jet lag like ice cream with @PrinceHenry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry watches the likes and comments immediately pour in. Maybe it was that simple?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex says, “There are a lot of things worth overthinking, believe me. But this isn’t one of them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry frowns. He wishes he had the capability to turn his thoughts off like that. “I suppose.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex shakes him from his thoughts by asking, “Are you done? I was on a call.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just like that, their relationship is back on track. Henry was almost lulled into thinking Alex would continue their truce through this trip. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course. I won’t keep you.” Even if he did want to keep talking to Alex, the American clearly had no interest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Something makes him stop. He turns around and watches Alex again. He looks so unguarded in his pajamas and glasses with phone in hand. It makes Henry wonder if his attitude is a front just like Henry’s is.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe this is how, “I didn’t know you wore glasses” slips out before Henry finally leaves.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Step 3: pretend to be his best friend and get locked in a room together</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Henry is restless the rest of the night. Every time he does close his eyes, he seems to glimpse brown eyes, curly hair, and glasses. It’s like he’s being haunted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His phone buzzes with yet another text from Pez demanding if he’s made a move on Alex yet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No Pez, he is my new best friend didn’t you hear?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He powers off his phone to ignore any more taunting messages. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry knew today would be rough. Not only did he have to do a talk show, but he would be visiting the cancer ward today. On top of that, he would have Alex by his side all day. Someone who hated him and would probably mock him if he became emotional later.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stared at himself in the mirror before straightening his attire and heading out for Shaan to collect them for the studio. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry zoned out until they arrived at the studio only for Alex to throw his arm over Henry’s shoulder and cheerfully say, “Act like you like me!” Having Alex’s arm around him made him feel like he had been burned. He was distracted by it and completely unable to focus until he was literally being pushed on stage to go talk about his new best friend, Alex Claremont-Diaz.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a few questions about the different charities he had worked with, they quickly moved on to the latest gossip - “Cakegate” and his “international best friend”. With that, Alex was called on to join them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He watched Alex walk out to them and admired how much of a natural he was. He was so at ease with everything. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Could it really be that easy for some people?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry always wondered that especially about Alex. Except last night, he had seen a glimpse of the real Alex. He saw a peek of the mask that Alex hid behind dashing smiles, professionalism, and all the tabloid stories - maybe he was getting a little ahead of himself but Henry was hoping to see more of Alex introspection. He wanted to see him. He wanted to know him. Which, really, was a dangerous thought that could never see the light of day. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not that it mattered; his Grandmother made sure of that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry hopes he maintains his state of professionalism as he stares at Alex. To outsiders, it might’ve seemed like an ordinary best friend relationship. But in Henry’s eyes, he looked at Alex in something akin to awe. It wasn’t fake, either. He could feel the chase of his heartbeat, guttering to his chest, pounding against his brittle bones. Heavy. Heaving. Full of a raging delightfulness that pounds against his eardrums. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>God. The feeling is distasteful around his mouth, lungs, and his chest, but, Henry can’t help the exhilarating feeling that seeps into his skin, as though, someone was injecting him with something. But - the feelings that permitted his skin and bones - this was nothing forced. It…just happened. Naturally. Like the flow of the river. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Listening to Alex talk to Dottie - even though it might have possibly been all for show - Henry thinks he might’ve caught a fragment of Alex’s obtained personality. It curdles and weaves into his brain, leaving his mind without a single articulate moment. He wants to peel off the layers that are embedded so deeply into Alex’s skin, it’s mistaken for the person he was. Henry wants to experience being Alex’s real friend - since being with him is certainly off the table - he wants to know his little quirks, his morning habits, what ripples beneath his skin. Henry doesn’t think he’s seen Alex without annoyance and uncontrolled anger. But even so, Alex’s heart was sown over with detachment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wanted it so badly to be true when Alex said, “It’s always great to see this guy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There were few things he wished for. He wished for his father. He wished to lead a normal life where he could be himself, without pretending. And he wished to know Alex Claremont-Diaz. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Really know him</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But when Alex smiles, a real, genuine smile, Henry thinks he might've been closer than he thought. Maybe he’s already seen a glimpse of Alex and was unaware, all this time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>_____________________________________________________________________</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Contrary to belief, Henry did love his people. It was one of the things he did love as a prince. One of the benefits, he’d say. And although he couldn’t help his people in the ways he wanted to, there were other ways he could help. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And however false his smiles and actions were in the limelight, his smiles and actions were always sincere when he spoke to people in need. To kids. To the elderly. Somehow, the words of the Prince of England, managed to stir something in them. They believed in him. Their eyes would shine brighter than the sunlight that beamed above their heads when they saw him. Not that Henry really understood that. He was just another person. He didn’t necessarily think he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>that special</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He was just another person. He still had the same fears, insecurities others did. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Star Wars fan, are you?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, it’s my favorite,” Claudette gushes. “I’d just like to be Princess Leia when I’m older because she’s tough and smart and strong, and she gets to kiss Han Solo.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know what,” Henry responds with a small smile, “I think you’ve got the right idea.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Claudette giggles, an excited glimmer in her eyes. “Who’s your favorite?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hmm,” Henry says, pretending to be thinking hard about the question. “I always liked Luke. he’s brave and good, and he’s the strongest Jedi of them all. I think Luke is proof that it doesn't matter where you come from or who your family is - you can always be great if you’re true to yourself.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“All right, Miss Claudette,” a nurse cuts in, coming around the curtain. Henry jumped, startled. But the thing that was surprising was the scratching of a chair behind him. He raises an eyebrow at Alex who is looking at anything but him. “You two can go, it’s time for her meds.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Miss Beth, Henry said we were mates now!” Claudette claims, “he can stay!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Excuse you!” Beth exclaims, sounding a little outraged and shocked at Claudette’s words. “That’s no way to address a prince. Terribly sorry, your highness.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No need to apologise,” Henry tells her, smiling fondly. “Rebel commanders outrank royalty.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m impressed,” Alex says as they walk into the hallway together. Henry cocks an eyebrow, and tries not to show his surprise, or anything else, as Alex adds, “not impressed, just surprised.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By how quickly Alex adds he’s not impressed and is merely surprised, Henry can’t help but wonder whether he was, in fact, impressed. But that was just a small, minuscule thought that Henry should know better that it wasn’t true. His hope was getting the better of him, it seems. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex stares at him with regard. Considering. Something… something.. That Henry knows without a doubt, Alex, has never seen him in that way before. Henry can’t help the stuttering of his heart. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“At what?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That you actually have feelings.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You have no idea</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Henry thinks to himself. Instead of voicing the words, he begins to smile. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But before he could turn to look at Alex, he’s interrupted by a loud yell and something that sounds like gunfire, before Cash grabs the both of them by the arm and shoves them through the nearest door. He mutters, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>stay down,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>before rushing back outside. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex lands on top of Henry and he lets out an, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh god.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>To Alex though, this is some joke as he says, “We have got to stop ending up like this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All Henry can focus on is Alex’s weight pressed against him. His mind supplies an unhelpful image of them in a similar position sans clothes or a potential threat against them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you mind?” He needs Alex off of him to get his focus back on track.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is your fault!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Irritated, Henry hisses, “How is this possibly my fault?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nobody ever tries to shoot me when I’m doing presidential appearances, but the minute I go out with a fucking royal-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Will you shut up before you get us both killed?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nobody is going to kill us. Cash is blocking the door. Besides, It’s probably nothing.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then at least </span>
  <em>
    <span>get off me</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stop telling me what to do! You’re not the prince of me!” Henry doesn’t think it would matter even if he was.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bloody hell,” he groans. He shifts in an effort to move Alex away from him, but instead Alex lands on the floor. Their new arrangement crams Alex between Henry and some cleaning supplies.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s quiet for about a second before Alex begins speaking again. “Can you move over, Your Highness? I’d rather not be the little spoon.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Part of Henry enjoys being close to Alex but now is not the time for this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Believe me, I’m trying. There’s no room.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Outside Henry can just make out some voices and footsteps. No one comes to rescue them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex, who apparently is allergic to shutting up, begins speaking once again. “Well, guess we better make ourselves comfortable.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry exhales tightly. Frustrated that he let himself get stuck with Alex like this, “Fantastic.” He attempts to put space between them by crossing his arms, but it barely makes a difference. He’s not sure why but he feels like he needs to defend himself again as he says, “For the record, nobody’s ever made an attempt on my life either.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With fake cheer, “Well congratulations, you’ve officially made it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry’s quickly losing his composure. “Yes, this is exactly how I dreamed it would be. Locked in a cupboard with your elbow in my rib cage.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex takes this opportunity to elbow him and Henry yelps in surprise. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With that, Henry has had it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s done letting Alex push him around. He pulls Alex by his shirt and pulls himself on top of Alex. Inexplicably, Alex smiles in response to Henry pinning him to the hospital floor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Smirking Alex challenges him with, “So you </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> have some fight in you” while simultaneously using his hips to try and push Henry off of him. He does his best, but Henry is glad he’s taller, stronger, and holding on to Alex’s shirt collar. Henry’s mind supplies him with more unhelpful images of them together with Alex beneath him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>quite</span>
  </em>
  <span> finished?” Henry can tell how strained his voice is. “Can you perhaps stop putting your sodding life in danger now?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Somehow, Alex still sounds carefree as he says, “aw you do care. I’m learning all of your hidden depths today, sweetheart.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Something in Henry tightens as Alex calls him sweetheart. Even if it's mocking. He sighs and moves off of Alex. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I cannot believe even mortal peril will not prevent you from being the way you are.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The more he thinks about it, the more he admires Alex for this very trait. He must be so brave to be truly himself every day and to everyone. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>wishes </span>
  </em>
  <span>he had an ounce of that strength. If he did, maybe it would’ve been enough to stand up to Philip and his grandmother. He gave in to them time and time again because they shoved the royal duty line down his throat. Alex burned so brightly for everyone and Henry felt like he had blinked out ages ago. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s finally quiet for a few minutes. Henry watches as Alex seems to consider something. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually he tries, “so, uh, Star Wars?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry’s caught off guard by the comment, “Yes, Alex. Believe it or not, the children of the crown don’t only spend time going to tea parties.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He rolls his eyes and looks away. Alex though is unable to quit antagonizing him, “I assumed it was mostly posture coaching and junior polo league.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wishes Alex were wrong about those parts.  Grudgingly, he answers, “that may have been part of it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So you’re into pop culture, but act like you’re not. Either you’re not allowed to talk about it because it’s unseemly for the crown, or you choose not to  talk about it because you want people to think you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>cultured</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Which one is it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It seemed Henry had misread the situation. Maybe this wasn’t taunting, but Alex was trying to get to know him. Maybe Alex was trying to see behind Henry’s mask too.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you psychoanalyzing me? I don’t think royal guests are allowed to do that.” He’s joking but at the same time, he doesn’t want Alex to figure it out. If he does, he’s going to eventually realize Henry has a big stupid crush on him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m trying to understand why you’re so committed to acting like someone you’re not, considering you just told that little girl in there that greatness means being true to yourself.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So Alex had seen through his cracks. He wished he could explain how this was just easier. How his grandmother told him his tendencies were unwelcome. He wished every piece of public knowledge about him had been carefully crafted by their PR team down to Henry’s favorite author. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But he can’t so instead he says, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, and even if I did, I’m not sure if it’s any of your concern.” It’s another attempt to push Alex away. Just praying he won’t look too closely. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Really? Because I’m pretty sure I’m legally bound to pretend to be your best friend, and I don’t know if you’ve thought this through yet, but that’s not going to stop with this weekend.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fuck. Henry hadn’t thought of that. Which meant this was the first of many appearances he would have to make with Alex. Being friendly with Alex. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He continues, “If we do this and we’re never seen together again, people are gonna know we’re full of shit. We’re stuck with each other, like it or not, so I have a right to be clued in about what your deal is before it sneaks up on me and it bites me in the ass.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s no denying that Alex is correct. His grandmother will probably force him into more appearances to see Alex if it seems like the people love it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If he’s going to have to see Alex, he doesn’t want it all to be fake. It won’t be fake to Henry after all. He needs to start bridging the gap between them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t we start with you telling me why exactly you hate me so much?” He cringed by how blunt it was, but he knew they would have to work it out. He’s facing Alex now, trying to read his reaction. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you really want to have this conversation?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He has to get this over with. “Maybe I do.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex crosses his arm and seems to realize he’s copied Henry and makes an effort to uncross them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you really not remember being a prick to me at the Olympics?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry thinks back to their interaction. He kept it brief but it wasn’t THAT bad. He didn’t try to become best friends with the guy but still. He has to be missing something.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is that the time you threatened to push me in the Thames?” He knows it’s not, but he wants Alex to fill him in on what he’s forgetting. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex’s voice raises as he sharply responds, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>No. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It was the time you were a condescending prick at the diving finals. You really don’t remember?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Again, Henry struggles to remember anything that would warrant this strong of a reaction. “Remind me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex is glaring at him now. “I walked up to introduce you to myself, and you stared at me like I was the most offensive thing you had ever seen. Right after you shook my hand, you turned to Shaan and said, ‘Can you get rid of him?’”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry wanted to laugh at the irony. He was basically living Pride and Prejudice right now. Was this how Mr. Darcy felt when Elizabeth had rejected him? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No wonder Alex hated him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He has to push through and try to salvage this. With no option to push him away, he’s desperate to repair their relationship.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah. I didn’t realize you had heard that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He mentally berates himself for making that mistake. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I feel like you’re missing the point, which is that it’s a douchey thing to say either way.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry can’t stop comparing himself to Darcy and Alex to Elizabeth. On the bright side, at least he knows Alex could change his feelings. Henry just needs to do some serious work to fix things. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s…fair” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, so”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s all? Only the Olympics?” If he’s going to fix things he needs all of the information.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex continues, “I mean, that was the start.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry waits for him to continue. When he doesn’t, he prompts Alex on with “I’m sensing an ellipsis.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex lets out a deep sigh. “It’s just... “ He trails off for a moment before letting loose, “I don’t know. Doing what we do is so fucking hard. But it’s harder for me. I’m the son of the first female president. And I’m not white like she is, I can’t even pass for it. People will always come down harder on me. And you’re, you know, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and you were born into all of this, and everyone thinks you’re Prince fucking Charming. You’re basically this living reminder I’ll always be compared to someone else, no matter what I do, no matter if I work twice as hard.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry’s surprised by this sudden revelation by Alex. Maybe it was a sign he wanted to work things out between them as well. Henry knows he owes Alex an explanation. This is his turn to clue Alex into his personal life, but he needs to do it without freaking Alex out. Can’t exactly come outright and said </span>
  <em>
    <span>I liked you when I first saw you, but I was busy getting over my dad dying and couldn’t stand the thought of happiness. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So Henry settles for something halfway.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I can’t very well do much about the rest. But I can tell you I was, in fact, a prick that day. Not that it’s any excuse, but my father had died fourteen months before, and I was still kind of a prick every day of my life at the time. And I am sorry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Speaking of his father always makes something twist inside him. He misses his father every day. He tries to look away from Alex, but when he looks up, Alex is looking at Henry like he’s completely figured him out. It’s alarming and terrifying. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The stress of the situation, Alex’s proximity, the cancer ward and his father are all making Henry feel like he’s suffocating. He’s completely lost in his thoughts until Alex shifts next to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It jostles Henry back to the present and he clears his throat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex finally responds, “Well, good to know you’re not perfect. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It grows quiet again between them. Henry decides to start backtracking on their earlier conversation. He hated to admit it, but he wanted to bicker with Alex over the finer points of Star Wars and whatever else they had in common.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Return of the Jedi” </span>
  </em>
  <span>is all he lets out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“To answer your question - yes, I do like Star Wars and </span>
  <em>
    <span>Return of the Jedi </span>
  </em>
  <span>is my favorite.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex huffs out a laugh, “Oh wow. You’re wrong.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amused, Henry questions him with, “how can I be wrong about my own favorite? It’s my personal truth.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s a personal truth that is wrong and bad.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry rolls his eyes. Of course Alex’s options have to be right.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Which do you prefer then? Please show me the error of my ways.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Empire</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry scrunches his face up, “So dark though.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, which is what makes it good. It’s the most thematically complex. It’s got the Han and Leia kiss in it, you meet Yoda, Han is at the top of his game, fucking Lando Calrissian, and the best twist in cinematic history. What does </span>
  <em>
    <span>Jedi</span>
  </em>
  <span> have? Fuckin’ Ewoks.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex explains all of this as if it should be obvious. Henry still feels there’s something to be said about a good happy ending though. He hasn’t had many of those and probably won’t.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ewoks are iconic,” is how he counters instead.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ewoks are stupid.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But Endor.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>“But Hoth. There’s a reason why people always call the best, grittiest installment of a trilogy </span><em><span>the</span></em> <em><span>Empire</span></em><span> of a series.”</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>While Alex makes good points, there’s no changing Henry’s mind on this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And I can appreciate that. But isn’t there something to be valued in a happy ending as well?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex taunts him again with, “Spoken like a true Prince Charming.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m only saying I like the resolution of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Jedi</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It ties everything up nicely. And the overall theme you’re intended to take away from the films is hope and love and. . . er you know all that. Which is what Jedi leaves you with a sense of most of all.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry could rant about this for hours. His English degree would help him prepare a dissertation to Alex on why he’s right on his opinion. Alex may be stubborn, but Henry won’t budge on this. He’s preparing for more debating when Cash reappears.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“False alarm, some dumbass kid brought fireworks for his friend.” Cash looks down at them crammed together and smirks. “This looks cozy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yep, we’re really bonding,” Alex says, sounding reluctant. Cash pulls him up and they’re finally free to leave.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>________________________</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry finds himself feeling disappointed as Alex prepares to leave. He knew it was coming, but it was kind of nice getting to actually know him. For the first time in a while, he was hopeful they could work things out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s struggling to think of an excuse to see or talk to Alex again. After all, Alex suggested they keep up the ruse or no one would believe it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Someone’s definitely on Henry’s side today as Alex takes Henry’s phone from him and opens up a contact page. Henry watches him enter in what is presumably his number.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Here,” and hands the phone back to him. “That’s my number. If we’re going to keep this up, it’s going to get annoying to keep up through handlers. Just text me. We’ll figure it out.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry is in total shock. Even with their one somewhat friendly conversation about Star Wars, he didn’t think Alex would be so on board to keep up their friendship just yet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right. Thank you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No booty calls,” Alex tells him. Henry chokes and can’t get out another word. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Some part of him questions if Alex was flirting with that remark, but dismisses the thought. He waves him off and then returns to his room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stares at the new contact in his phone “Alex Claremont-Diaz -FSOTUS”. It takes everything in him not to text it right away. Instead he switches over to Pez’s contact and starts to fill him in on the weekend. </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Step four: overthinking, text messages, and internet searches</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>He was raiding the fridge again. Which was never a good sign. He only raided the fridge when it was absolutely necessary. So, if he was raiding the fridge at this ungodly hour, he must be having a crisis. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was, in fact, having a crisis - an Alex Claremont Diaz, crisis, to be precise. And Henry bloody hated himself for it. The thought of Alex made his skin flare up, and his heart to stammer relentlessly. And Henry still couldn’t stop thinking about the boy who managed to infiltrate his mind, heart and probably soul, unintentionally. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Which brought him to the constant scrolling through the messages on his phone, and overthinking to the point it hurt his head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It began a few days when Alex left. He had ample time to fill in Pez who was now convinced the two were meant to be. He was convinced Alex’s hatred was just an attraction he was trying to hide away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry wasn’t so convinced, but Pez basically forced Henry into texting him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After scrolling through posts about Star Wars, Henry stumbles across a picture of Chief Chirpa and a rant about why </span>
  <em>
    <span>Return of the Jedi</span>
  </em>
  <span> is superior. His mind immediately goes back towards Alex. He thinks about attaching him the entire article, but he knows Alex will just respond with his same points from earlier. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Instead, he takes a screenshot of the picture, opens a new conversation, and sends it to “Alex Claremont-Diaz -FSOTUS” with the caption, “This bloke looks like you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After hitting send, he regrets everything. Maybe Alex didn’t mean for them to talk casually. Would Alex even know who this was from? In a panic, he double texts, “This is Henry, by the way.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He waits for a response, but there’s nothing. He turns his phone on airplane mode and tries to keep busy the rest of the day while ignoring the disappointment he feels. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He keeps questioning why he thought Alex would want to talk to him. He berates himself for the next few days over this decision until his phone blinks with a new text from “Alex Claremont-Diaz-FSOTUS”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s happily sitting on the beach in Australia. Almost completely having forgotten about his text to Alex, when the notification comes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A: you have a lot of moles. Is that the result of inbreeding? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry’s confused for a moment until he sees the attached picture from a tabloid spread.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Is he keeping tabs on me?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Henry thinks to himself. Alex does always seem to know what’s going on in Henry’s public life. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s not sure how to respond until two days later when the perfect opportunity arises. He’s drinking with Pez when he finds it. He’s laughing to himself as he sends Alex the link, “Is Alex Claremont-Diaz going to be a father?”. He’s unable to stop himself as he adds, </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>H: But we were ever so careful, dear.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Apparently, this is when things start to change for Alex.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He gets a few quick responses including how he just got kicked out of a briefing for laughing at Henry’s text. Before he even notices, they’ve fallen into a rhythm of texting. Alex is often up and weird hours and content to text Henry when bored in his lectures. Henry responds to occupy himself through boring royal meetings. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex has no filter with Henry.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s quickly moved on to sharing his opinions on everything. His complaints, feelings, worries, and everything. Henry isn’t sure how, but it’s like Alex is inviting him to see the real person behind his public persona. It’s all Henry’s wanted for a while if he’s being honest with himself. It’s such a gift.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Soon they’ve talked about their Hogwarts houses, beer, movies, and Alex’s family. Henry is careful to omit details about his personal life, but Alex never asks anyways. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry can tell when he’s interested Alex in something. He’s taken a particular interest in Shaan and makes sure to include details about Shaan whenever he worries their conversation is in danger of dying out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As time passes, Henry is surprised how much he knows about June and Nora while he tells Alex about Bea and Pez. Pez has become just about as obsessed with June at this point as Henry has with Alex. They secretly send each other articles about the Claremont-Diaz siblings while Pez makes elaborate plans to woo June. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s noticed when things have really changed when he’s complaining to Alex about Philip and their savings accounts. He explains how he just wants to live off of his dad’s money and put his royal money to use when Alex responds with:</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A: i am low-key impressed</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, he knows things have changed. Alex teases him but doesn’t mock him. Alex listens to him instead of scorns him. Alex respects him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their texts grow from acquaintances to friends to what Pez believes is a full on flirtation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s hanging out with Pez a few days when he gets another text from Alex out of the blue.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A: i hate that tie</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry’s confused and responds for clarification.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>H: What tie?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A: the one in that instagram you just posted</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frowning at his phone he types back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>H: What’s wrong with it? It’s only grey.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A: exactly. Try patterns sometime, and stop frowning at your phone like I know you’re doing rn</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry places his phone face down and looks up to see Pez staring at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alex again?” he asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, this time he’s teasing me for my tie.” Henry shows him the conversation, which has become customary now that they’re beginning the debate of “is Alex flirting with Henry?” (Pez is firmly on the yes side while Henry isn’t too sure).</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come on H, what guy comments on your appearance unless he’s paying attention?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Um, you do. All the time in fact.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pez rolls his eyes. “I’m allowed. I’m your best friend. How can you deny it? This guy is always the first to message you something new about a tabloid your in. Or comment on your social media. Or text you about anything going on in his life. We don’t do that. See the difference?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s the same argument Pez has been using for weeks. Even with his search history filled with “Signs he’s flirting” or “Signs he likes me”, Henry refuses to believe it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hopes there’s a possibility, but he won’t get his hopes up. He hates to admit it, but rejection from Alex would sting especially since Alex knows him now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>How did Mr. Darcy propose twice to Elizabeth when Henry can barely work up the courage to flirt back to Alex over text?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a groan, he lets his phone fall to the bed, tired of overthinking and agonizing over his problem. Not that it was true - but every time he dwelled on it and tried to put two and two together and tried to make sense of Alex’s actions - it gave him a little hope. And Henry knew that he’d need to abolish that glint of hope, because, if he didn’t, it would do nothing but leave him with heartbreak.  </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Step 4: The Great Turkey Calamity and too many questions left unanswered</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>A week after his outing to defeat the rivalry scandals, Henry is sitting in bed. The air is cool against his skin, a juxtaposition to the ignited fury inside his chest, his mind drifting back to dinner. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s the same as it always was in the palace; Phillip is doing his best to grind on Henry’s nerves with his nerve splitting smirk and the smug glint in his eye, his Grandmother being his Grandmother, using cruelty like it was a courtesy of politeness. Her cruelty - forcing Henry to forsake his identity and burying into the deepest parts of him that would never surface, grinding his guts and bones to ash in the process. Bea was the only one who understood him. She was his family through the thicker waters; the only one who treated him like he was still part of the family. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His phone buzzed, a piercing sound that echoed through his room. He bloody hoped it wasn’t something to do with another scandal, or something he didn’t care about and only pretended to. He paused, however, when he looked at who the message was from and jerked up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Alex</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Alex:</b>
  <span> They know. They know I have robbed them of five star accommodations to sit in a cage in my room, and the minute I turn my back they are going to feast on my flesh. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Immediately, his mood changed. He wanted to deny it was because Alex texted him out of the blue, but it was becoming quickly apparent that he was one of the only things that could pull Henry from his moods.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry was instantly amused at whatever Alex had gotten himself into. He simply responded:</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Henry:</b>
  <span>  Please send photos.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It struck him that this wasn’t an odd request between them anymore. Both kept strange hours, so recently Henry had begun receiving snapchats from Alex doing homework at 4 am. Or going for a run at 6 am. The ones he never answered were the pictures from Alex while in bed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Those particular pictures only made it easier to imagine that things could be different between them. That maybe Alex might like him and one day he would wake up in bed next to Alex. He wanted it all too much and knew if he responded he would let his desire show through.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His phone went off only a few seconds later. Alex had attached a picture of a turkey standing in its cage. He laughed at how ridiculous this was. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Henry:</b>
  <span> I think he’s cute.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was true and he wanted to provoke Alex.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Alex: </b>
  <span>that’s because you can’t hear all the menacing gobbling</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He rolled his eyes and quickly answered. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Henry:</b>
  <span> Yes, famously the most sinister of all animal sounds, the gobble</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He felt himself smiling as he placed his phone down. Startled only a few moments later with an incoming phone call from Alex. Before even registering how unusual getting a call from Alex was, he was answering it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know what, you little shit. You can hear it for yourself and then tell me how you would handle this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Are we really on the phone to talk about these turkeys?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alex? Have you really rung me at three o’clock in the morning to make me listen to a turkey?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This whole thing was growing more ludicrous by the second. Not that Henry minded per say.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, obviously.” Alex paused for a moment. “Jesus Christ, it’s like they can see into your soul. Cornbread knows my sins, Henry. Cornbread knows what I’ve done, he’s here to make me atone.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Knowing they’ll be talking for a few minutes he turns on his lamp and sits up in bed. “Let’s hear the cursed gobble, then.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, brace yourself.” Henry listens, but it's dead silent on the other line. He’s prepared for some scratchy noise, but instead he just hears nothing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Truly harrowing.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He can hear Alex growing more irritated, “It-okay, this is not representative. They’ve been gobbling all fucking night I swear.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry can’t help but mock him, “Sure they were.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, hang on. I’m gonna… I'm gonna get one of them to gobble.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This was quickly becoming the most absurd conversation Henry had ever been a part of. It seemed Alex would do anything if he had a point to prove. Knowing he could do nothing to stop him at this point, Henry waited.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He heard movement on the other end but still no gobbling. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Um, how do you make a turkey gobble?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Try gobbling and see if he gobbles back.” Henry was thankful Alex couldn’t see his expression. His smirk would’ve given him away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you serious?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We hunt loads of wild turkeys in the spring. The trick is to get into the mind of the turkey.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At this point, Henry wanted to see how far Alex was willing to go to prove himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How the hell do I do that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, do as I say. You have to get quite close to the turkey, like physically.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry continued to encourage him, “Make eye contact with the turkey. Do you have it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry wished he could see Alex crouched down and close to the turkey, but just imagining it was hilarious enough.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right, now hold it. Connect with the turkey, earn the turkey’s trust, befriend the turkey.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t sure how Alex was still believing all of this, but he was proud of how serious he kept his voice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Buy a summer home in Majorca with the turkey.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I fucking hate you!” Alex shouted into the phone. Henry couldn’t help but laugh. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then, finally it happened. The turkey gobbled and Alex screamed into the phone. “Goddammit, did you hear that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry couldn’t stop laughing. “Sorry, what? I’ve been stricken deaf.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re suck a dick. Have you ever even been turkey hunting?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alex, you can’t even hunt them in Britain.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hears Alex move around again before answering. “I hope Cornbread does kill me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knew Alex was being dramatic, but he still didn’t want anything like that coming from Alex’s mouth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, all right. I did hear it. It was proper frightening. So, I understand. Where’s June for all of this?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hoped that was enough to reassure Alex.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’s having some kind of girls night with Nora, and when I texted them they sent back ‘hahahahaha good luck with that’ and then a turkey and poop emoji.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t help but wonder if he would’ve gotten this call if one of the girls had been around. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s fair. So what are you going to do now? Are you going to stay up all night with them?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know! I guess! I don’t know what else to do!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry didn’t like how upset Alex sounded even though it was over something as ridiculous as this. If Alex asked him, he was fully prepared to stay awake with him. He wanted to encourage Alex to try and sleep though. They didn’t both need to suffer from insomnia. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You couldn’t just go sleep somewhere else? Aren’t there a thousand rooms in that house?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, but uh, what if they escape? I’ve seen Jurassic Park. Did you know birds are directly descended from raptors? That’s a scientific fact. Raptors in my bedroom, Henry. And you want me to go to sleep like they’re not gonna bust out of their enclosures and take over the island the minute I close my eyes? Okay, maybe your white ass.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex’s level of dramatics had no limit it seemed. But at the mention of Henry’s “white ass” so to speak, he had had enough. He saw his reflection in the mirror and noticed a slight blush to his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m really going to have you offed. You’ll never see it coming. Our assassins are trained in discretion. They will come in the night, and it will look like a humiliating accident.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All lies, but Alex didn’t need to know that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Autoerotic asphyxiation?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Toilet heart attack.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jesus”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’ve been warned.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought you’d kill me in a more personal way. Silk pillow over my face, slow and gentle suffocation. Just you and me. Sensual.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry choked. “Ha. Well.” Maybe he really should have Alex offed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry wondered if the sound had altered them since David and Mr. Wobbles wandered into his room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Anyways,” Alex paused and Henry heard him moving around again, “It doesn’t really matter because one of these goddamn turkeys is gonna kill me first.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t really think- </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh hello there</span>
  </em>
  <span>” at that moment David got up and jumped onto Henry’s bed. He came up to Henry and started licking the Jaffa cakes wrapper near Henry’s bed. He scratched David behind the ears and said, “Who’za good lad then?” before forgetting he was still on the phone call. He tagged on, “David says hello” to explain everything to Alex.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi, David”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He- Oi! Not for you, Mr. Wobbles! Those are mine! No, Mr. Wobbles, you bastard!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry was still distracted by the dog and cat going at it over the Jaffa Cakes. David, being the perfect angel he is, just wanted to play with the wrappers while the stupid cat was trying to steal the remaining Jaffa Cakes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck is a Mr. Wobbles?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My sister’s idiot cat. The thing weighs a ton and is trying to steal my Jaffa Cakes. He and David are mates.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are you even doing right now?” He asked as if he had any right after he was the one who called about those turkeys.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What am I doing? I was trying to sleep?” Not really, but again could Alex really judge him right now? He had no grounds to stand on.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, but you’re eating Jabba Cakes so…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jaffa Cakes! My God.” Henry was so exasperated at this point. “I’m having my entire life haunted by a deranged American Neanderthal and a pair of turkeys apparently.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry sighed dramatically. He really didn’t want to tell Alex what he had really been doing, but whatever.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And, don’t laugh.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh yay.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was watching </span>
  <em>
    <span>Great British Bake Off.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cute, not embarrassing though. What else?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Did he just call me cute?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was still stuck on that when he responded, “I, er, might be. . . wearing one of those peely facemasks.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex explained, “Oh my god! I knew it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Instant regret.” He could picture Alex’s grin at this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I knew you had one of those crazy expensive Scandinavian skin care regimens. Do you have, like, that eye cream with diamonds in it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry may be the Prince of England but even that was a bit excessive.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No!” Alex tried and failed to stifle his laughter. “Look, I have an appearance tomorrow, all right? I didn’t know I’d be scrutinized.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After all, Alex was the one who called him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not scrutinizing. We all gotta keep those pores in check. So you like </span>
  <em>
    <span>Bake Off</span>
  </em>
  <span>, huh?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry was surprised Alex let it go. “It’s just so soothing. Everything’s all pastel-colored and the music is so relaxing and everyone’s so lovely to one another. And you learn so much about different kinds of biscuits, Alex. So much. When the world seems awful, such as when you’re trapped in a Great Turkey Calamity, you can put it on and vanish into biscuit land.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Or when your grandmother is forcing you to hide your true self. Or when you’ve lost your father. Or when your brother is pressuring you into being just like him. Or when you’ve been stressing all day over your enemy/fake best friend/huge crush finding out that you like him and maybe that he likes you back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex takes all of this in and says, “American cooking competition shows are nothing like that. They’re all sweaty, and, like, dramatic death music and intense camera cuts. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Bake Off </span>
  </em>
  <span>makes </span>
  <em>
    <span>Chopped</span>
  </em>
  <span> look like the fucking Manson tapes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I feel like this explains loads about our differences.”  Alex laughs at this. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know, you’re kind of surprising.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry feels himself smile in response. It’s not the first time Alex has admitted Henry surprised him. Maybe this was how Darcy did it. Slowly revealing his true self seemed to be enough to change Alex’s opinion.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“In what way?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“In that you’re not a totally boring asshole.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Honestly, that was a compliment coming from Alex. “Wow. I’m honored” he said with a laugh.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I guess you have your depths.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You thought I was a dumb blonde, didn’t you?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not exactly, just, boring. I mean your dog is named David, which is pretty boring.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“After Bowie.” Henry thought it was much more clever this way. He knew what the name paid homage too without random PR representatives having to weigh in on how appropriate the name was. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I- Are you serious? What the hell? Why not call him Bowie then?” Henry can almost hear Alex’s mind spinning. The confusion is evident and it’s clear, Henry has proved him wrong again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bit on the nose isn’t it? A man should have some element of mystery.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I guess.” Then Henry hears him yawn. As much as he wanted to keep talking to Alex, it was clear he was exhausted. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alex,” he said, trying to sound serious again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The turkeys are not going to Jurassic Park you. You are not the bloke from Seinfeld. You’re Jeff Goldblum. Go to sleep.” He hoped the sternness would finally get through to Alex.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You go to sleep” is Alex’s fantastic comeback. His stubbornness makes Henry smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I will,” Henry fights to keep the seriousness in his voice, “as soon as you get off the phone, won’t I?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was debatable really, but Alex sounded like he needed the sleep.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, but, like, what if they gobble again?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Go sleep in June’s room, you numpty.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry felt like they were flirting at this point. Was it flirting or was Alex just goofing off? He was sending Pez an update as soon as this call ended. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” Henry agreed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex again said, “Okay.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry’s not sure what the appropriate ending to this call is. If it were Pez, he would’ve hung up already. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Instead he goes for a basic, “Okay. So, good night.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cool. Good night.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry hands up and stares at their call time blinking back at him. He’s still shocked Alex called him and maybe even flirted with him? Either way, it was clear Alex doesn’t hate Henry anymore.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That much he was certain. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He starts typing things out to Pez and knows he will have to wait for a response, but he doesn’t want to forget everything that just happened. He’s about to hit send when a text from Alex comes in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Alex: </b>
  <span>I sent pics of turkeys so i deserve pics of your animals too</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If he was doing that there was no way he was doing it with his facemask on. He got up and scrubbed everything off of his face. He positioned himself in between David and Mr. Wobbles and took a selfie.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well, really he took a few before sending one off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Henry: </b>
  <span>This is what I must endure</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Henry:</b>
  <span> Good night, honestly</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As soon as it was sent, he felt a wash of anxiety over it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Should I have just sent it with the animals? I shouldn’t have taken it in the bed. He’s going to know how hard I tried to get this just right. If he was flirting then maybe I should’ve put more effort in??</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He tried to drown out these thoughts by again googling, “Was he flirting with me?” and “How to tell if your friend secretly likes you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hated that the pages now showed up as “frequently visited” on his search history.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry turned his phone off and tried going to sleep. At least, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>tried </span>
  </em>
  <span>to. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he had circles under his eyes tomorrow, it would be because of Alex. Because Alex </span>
  <em>
    <span>called </span>
  </em>
  <span>him. Henry wasn’t sure what this all meant, but whatever it was thrilled him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually, he drifted off to sleep feeling lighter than he had in weeks.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Step 6: Christmas, disastrous family dinners & phone calls</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>If there’s one time of year Henry enjoys being around the palace it has to be the Christmas season. Once December hits, everything becomes decorated with greenery, bows, and shiny decorations. It made Kensington feel alive when normally it felt like an empty shell pretending to be some sort of ostentatious house. He loved when they put the lights on the outside tree; it brought a sense of light to the place that Henry felt it needed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He spent a large part of December visiting local charities, shopping for gifts for his family and friends, and working with Pez on expanding his philanthropy projects. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One day he had been out shopping and found a set of whiskey glasses with a Star Wars design etched into them. He picked them up and imagined giving them to Alex. He let himself picture the smile it would bring to Alex and how they would debate over which was the best movie again. Maybe if they ever had down time they could marathon it. Knowing it wouldn’t happen and he wouldn’t see Alex for over another month, he put them back down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex would probably think Henry was weird for giving him a gift anyways. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The encounter left Henry feeling a little sad. It was another thing that if Henry was a normal person, he would’ve done without a second thought. It felt like another piece of him was being ripped away whenever he denied himself something. Especially when it was related to Alex.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He found some boring, fancy wine glass set for Philip and called it a day. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He withdraws to his room planning to binge on more episodes of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Bake Off</span>
  </em>
  <span> and ignore everyone the rest of the day.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s midway through the first episode and mindlessly scrolling on his phone when a new notification pops up from “Alex”. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Alex:</b>
  <span> yo there’s a bond marathon on and did you know your dad was a total babe</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry’s simply shocked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry wondered if he could count this as another piece of evidence towards the “Maybe Alex isn’t straight” debate. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>After all, if he thinks dad is a “babe” and I look like dad, doesn’t that mean he thinks I’m attractive too? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Henry wonders to himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry just plays along.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Henry:</b>
  <span> I BEG YOU TO NOT</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The rest of the afternoon is spent texting back and forth about different Bond movies before transitioning quickly over to superhero movies. Then, they’re debating about which Hogwarts houses their family members would be in. It’s so ridiculous and fun. He feels each text bring a smile to his face. Henry realizes they have more in common every time they talk, and even if they don’t, they have fun debating about it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’re far from where they were back at Alex’s weekend visit. Any teasing remark by either of them now has a joking manner behind it. It feels a lot like flirting, but is it?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He feels himself smiling the whole day and thankful, not for the first time, that he has this piece of Alex. Even if he can’t have the whole thing, at least Alex is in his life.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>_________________________________________________________________________</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The entire month of December seems to fly by and it’s Christmas Eve. Although he loves the season, Henry’s not exactly looking forward to spending the next few days with Philip and his grandmother.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Of course, as members of the Royal Family, the day can’t just be spent quietly at home. They must film some sort of tacky greeting for the country and take what feels like thousands of photos. Finally, they’re served dinner by many staff members who probably wished they were home with their families. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If he had a say, Henry would send them all home. They deserved to be with their families instead of sitting around waiting for the Royal Family to celebrate.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally, the meal was over. Grandmother had only complained twice during the entire meal. Truly a wonderful experience.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The rest of the night he had planned to spend with Bea watching trashy holiday movies. They had this tradition to enter a sugar coma while watching the Christmas Hallmark movies. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They were just beginning the second one when Henry’s phone rang. Seeing it was from Alex, he picked it up, showed Bea the screen, and then answered with, “What could I have possibly done to have brought this upon myself?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was a joke really. He knew he had been smiling the second Alex’s incoming call came through.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, um, sorry. I know it’s late and it’s Christmas Eve and everything. You probably have, like, family stuff, I’m just realizing. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. Wow, this is why I don’t have friends. I’m a dick. Sorry, man. I’ll, uh, I’ll just-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry’s smile quickly dropped from his face. What had happened to make Alex sound like this? Didn’t Alex know by now that he would be there for him?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alex, Christ. It’s fine. It’s half passed two here, everyone’s gone to bed. Except Bea. Sat hi, Bea.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi Alex!” Bea started to giggle and made a heart shape in the air with her fingers. “Henry’s got his candy-cane jim-jams on-” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry quickly ended whatever was coming next by throwing a pillow at her. “That’s quite enough,” he says trying to fight the embarrassment. “What’s happening then?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, I know this is weird, and you’re with your sister and everything, and, like, argh, I kind of didn’t have anyone to call who would be awake? And I know we’re, uh, not really friends, and we don’t really talk about this stuff, but my dad came here for Christmas , and he my mom are like fucking tiger sharks fighting over a baby seal when you put them in the same room together for more than an hour, and they’ve got this huge fight, and it shouldn’t matter, because they’re already divorced and everything, and i don’t know why I lost my shit, but I wish they could give it a rest for once so we could have one single normal holiday, you know?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry doesn’t say anything for a while. His lips feel like it’s been taped together by glue as he presses the phone harder against his ear, and he shoots Bea a look, motioning her to take the biscuits. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hang on. Bea, can I have a minute? Hush. Yes, you can take the biscuits.” He rolls his eyes at Bea who practically skips out of the room, biscuits in hand, blatantly ignoring the implications she threw at him. Or really, innuendos. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex tells Henry about the divorce, and Henry listens intently, clutching his phone against his ear. Henry doesn’t say a word when Alex talks, not even when he detects the pain ridden tone beneath Alex’s voice. It’s full of his inner turmoil and angst, painted with dull, dark hues and pinpointed sharpness that is blunter than a knife. Henry hurts for him; his heart clenches inside his chest and it resembles hands squeezing his chest tightly. He desperately wants to offer Alex some form of comfort.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But in the end, he tells Alex the truth. It rolls out like a man spilling the truth from his vodka soaked tongue, but rather more controlled and articulate, and definitely not slurred. It’s not that Henry was a liar - he lies for a living and pretends to be someone he’s not, especially because he was an outlier, which was the cold, hard truth - but when it comes down to Alex, he can….always say what he thinks without a drip of fear that he would say something he regrets and something he’s not meant to say. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Because Alex knew the real him, and he knew Alex too. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But then abruptly, he hears the noise of a door and a sharp inhale, and Alex interrupts Henry before he could speak again. He frowns. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah - okay, thanks man, I gotta go.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alex -” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Seriously, um. Thank you,” Alex says, and Henry halts at his words. “Merry Christmas, night,” and without a second to spare, the line cuts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry doesn’t move for a good few minutes. He just clutches the phone against his ear, wondering whether he imagined the entire thing. Did Alex actually call him and rant about the chaoticness of his Christmas day? Was Henry one of the people Alex actually trusted enough to call about his personal problems? Alex thanked him?  (He’s never done that before) </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry doesn’t know what to make of this entire situation, and he’s afraid that even this is a little too much for him, so he does the first thing he can think of. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He makes another google search: </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>DOES HE LIKE ME OR IS IT A PLATONIC BROS THING</b>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Step 7: Invitations, reflections, and more google searches</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Shortly after the phone call incident (or that’s how he, Pez, and Bea refer to it), something interesting happens.</p><p> </p><p>Shaan messages Henry saying that White House has requested to send Henry a message. He accepts and about twenty minutes later receives a text. Well, an invitation really.</p><p> </p><p>You’re Invited!</p><p>His Royal Highness Prince Henry of Wales and guest</p><p>Please join us in celebrating the New Year at the </p><p>Young America New Year’s Eve Party</p><p> </p><p>Henry has to read it several times before realizing what this means. One of the White House Trio members must’ve sent this. He wished it was Alex, but guessed June or Nora most likely intervened. </p><p> </p><p>He quickly sent a picture of the invite to Pez.</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Pez: You’re bringing me. You know I’ve been dying to meet June</b>
</p><p> </p><p>And just like that, it looked like Henry would be seeing Alex much sooner than expected. He was both excited and nauseous at the same time. He had to figure out what this invite really meant.</p><p> </p><p>Would Alex even want to see him? Was this another friend thing? Did the “and guest” mean he was supposed to bring a date? What was he even supposed to wear? </p><p> </p><p>It was at this point when Henry realised he was having another crisis. At this point, it wasn’t even a gay crisis, it was more of an Alex crisis. But how could you blame Henry about his so-called Alex crisis, at this point? To him, Alex had always been an enigma, and someone far out of his reach, bleeding with mystery and snark that Henry spent his days thinking about who definitely didn’t reciprocate. However, then the whole chaotic wedding thing happened, the fake best friend agreement, everything in between and in the aftermath with sharing secrets and exchanging texts, and well, Alex, unintentionally, doing his best to make Henry’s heart pummel inside his chest. </p><p> </p><p>So to speak, Henry doesn’t know how he really...feels. Personally, as of today, he feels like he has the entire ocean in his grasp. It’s brutal and tastes like rain and acid mixed in one, throat churning, and drowning in his sea of thoughts that were more harmful than good. But the prospect of Alex reduced him into a puddle, that he doesn’t know whether he’ll ever get a straight answer. There are signs where Alex does something that curls a ball of exhilaration, something warmer than honey into his chest, <em> albeit </em>, then it’s flickered quicker than quicksand. </p><p> </p><p>And Henry doesn’t think he wants to know the pain of false hope. But he can’t help but wonder. Especially at all the things Pez has told him, and he trusted Pez more than anything. </p><p> </p><p>So Henry does what he does best: pretending all is well, completely avoiding the problem right in front of him, and well, starts packing for New Years Eve. </p><p> </p><p>Henry spends the next few days unpacking and repacking. Pez keeps encouraging him to make a move on Alex, but he had no idea how. What was he supposed to say? I know we’ve been more friendly, but I’m attracted to you and can’t take it anymore? I know we’re supposed to hate each other, but I actually am in love with you?</p><p> </p><p>The worst part is, Alex still hasn’t said anything to him. Not about the invite, not about Henry responding “Yes +1”, nothing. He’s mentioned party planning, but still, maybe it’s a mistake to go.</p><p> </p><p>As he and Pez board the plane, he pulls out his phone one more time to “10 Unmistakable Signs He Likes You More Than A Friend”</p><p> </p><p>1. He wants to know your story</p><p> </p><p>Henry thinks, <em> well, if Alex trying to psychoanalyze me, asking questions about my family, and making fun of me for facemakes, Jaffa Cakes, Bake Off count then yeah. One point for he likes me. </em></p><p> </p><p>2. He initiates contact</p><p> </p><p>Between the many text conversations, phone calls, and antagonizing comments at public events, that would be two points for Alex liking Henry.</p><p> </p><p>(Especially the half naked pictures Alex sends him, that Henry definitely cannot bloody stand.) </p><p> </p><p>3. The way he talks to you is different</p><p> </p><p>Did learning the intimate details of his parents’ divorce count? Was the Great Turkey Calamity as unusual and special to him as well? He awards a half point for this category.</p><p> </p><p>He thinks back to the night when Alex called him about turkeys, at the brink of dawn - which was probably a bit weird. Not unusual in the sense of unusual things were, but more in the sense of Alex’s, who contacted Henry.<em> Out of all people </em>. It was a bit unsettling, (not in the creepy way) more in the violent thrum of his chest sort of way. </p><p> </p><p>4. He can’t keep his hands off of you</p><p> </p><p>Henry reads this and wishes he could award a point for this. The more he thinks about it though, he remembers how during the wedding fiasco that Alex grabbed onto <em> him. </em> And how he initiated the fist bump and many other small things between them like a casual handshake. He didn’t know if it was a stretch so maybe the New Year’s Gala would help.</p><p> </p><p>The more he thinks about it, the more he wonders whether he’s over analyzing this entire situation. He sometimes wished that he could get into Alex’s head - since he was as unreadable as a rock. </p><p> </p><p>5. Finds every and any excuse to talk to you</p><p> </p><p>He immediately agrees that Alex does this. I mean after all, he called about <em> turkeys </em> at 3 o’clock in the morning. Who does that? And he sends him every tabloid related to the Royal Family. And every ridiculous, but wonderful thought he has.</p><p> </p><p>6. He compliments you</p><p> </p><p>Maybe compliment wasn’t the right word, but Alex definitely respected him. He mentioned on several occasions he was impressed even. That counts, right?</p><p> </p><p>7. He remembers the details</p><p> </p><p>Sure, Alex did remember all the details, but he was smart. Of course he would remember everything. He wanted to psychoanalyze Henry by picking him apart, and he needed to remember the small things about Henry for that. </p><p> </p><p>And Henry wonders that perhaps one of the fragments that Alex yanks out of analysing Henry, there was something, however infinitely small, he liked about him. </p><p> </p><p>8. He gets jealous</p><p> </p><p>As far as Henry knew, it was no. He wasn’t exactly sure. Alex asked him about the tabloids targeting Henry’s love life, a few times, but he wasn’t sure if that meant anything. It was something that really irked Henry, because it reminded him that he was more than <em> a bit </em> jealous. He could feel jealousy clinging against him like a second skin - seething, burning, seeping with utmost rage - that was more potent than a knife. Whenever he heard the speculation about Nora and Alex that they were dating, he could feel the ugly, green monster inside him, desperately clawing his insides, wanting to get out. He even felt envious of Liam, the man who Henry still knew almost nothing about for being one of Alex’s best friends. </p><p> </p><p>He quickly moved on from this point. </p><p> </p><p>9. He goes out of his way for you</p><p> </p><p>He recalls the Instagram story, giving Henry his phone number, and sending the campaign buttons. All of these things were something extra he did either to make things better for the two of them or to make Henry laugh. </p><p> </p><p>10. He’s always happy to see you</p><p> </p><p>Well, historically, that wasn’t strictly true. Henry knew that, but this felt different. He was given this extra invite by him, June, or Nora. That meant Alex wanted to see him or the others believed Alex wanted to see him. Both of those pointed to a yes, but he would see Alex in a few short hours.</p><p> </p><p>Even though he didn’t want to grow too hopeful, the evidence was stacked in his favor. Or that is how Henry interpreted everything at least. He knew he was biased, but still.</p><p> </p><p>They were about halfway through the flight when a text from Alex came in.</p><p> </p><p><b>Alex: </b>I will be wearing a burgundy velvet suit tonight. Please do not attempt to steal my shine. You will fail and I will be embarrassed for you. </p><p> </p><p>Henry couldn’t stop the smile that fell across his lips. He wasn’t sure if it was to do with Alex texting him, or because of, well, Alex texting him. He always felt stupidly giddy whenever he received a message from him, his stomach clotted with something even warmer than the summer heat in England. </p><p> </p><p>He types a response quickly, his smile never fading. The fuzzy feeling brushes against the undercurrent of his skin, down to his bones. </p><p> </p><p><b>Henry:</b> wouldn’t dream of it </p><p> </p><p>He sits on his private jet and stares down at his phone, biting his lip, and he’s sure he has a somewhat dazed looked on his face. If anyone asked him if he was doing okay, he could’ve probably made a shitty excuse, but it was Pez, who knew him and inside and out, so the shitty excuse definitely wouldn’t work. </p><p> </p><p>“Alex?” Pez says simply, arching an eyebrow at Henry. </p><p> </p><p>“<em> Yep </em>,” Henry mutters, putting his phone to the side, rubbing his temples. His-probably-dazed look disappears, a scowl replacing the look that was etched across his face. He knows that Pez would be telling him to ask Alex out. </p><p> </p><p>God knows that he’s heard enough from Bea, whose advice certainly wasn’t handy. </p><p> </p><p>“This is sad,” Pez mutters, chewing on a cheese and ham sandwich. He tilts his head to the side, assessing. It was actually quite unnerving. Henry sighs. “Watching you pine. Pining away in your glass castle -” </p><p> </p><p>“Royal palace, Pez,” Henry interrupts, but he’s grinning, rolling his eyes. </p><p> </p><p>“ - whatever, Fox Mountchristen Windsor - Gods, your name is a mouthful,” Pez shakes his head absentmindedly, and jerks his head to the side, grinning. “But anyway - it’s really sad watching you pine away thousands of miles away, on the phone, in front of the press, and now, here.” He spins the champagne in his glass, “which is why you should ask him out or woo him, or something.” </p><p> </p><p>Henry snorts, and sends a wry smile in Pez’s direction. “You know, Pez, I really don’t think Alex is the type to be wooed.” </p><p> </p><p>“You don’t know if you try, Fox Mountchristen - oh, bugger it, I'm not saying your full name again. But seriously, Hen - “</p><p> </p><p>“Pez, you know it makes me sound like a chicken -” </p><p> </p><p>Pez ignores him. </p><p> </p><p>“Just think about, alright?” </p><p> </p><p>Pez stares at Henry, raising a sharp eyebrow. Well, it wasn’t like Henry did have any choice other than to listen. He valued Pez’s input, and he usually was rather intuitive, so he nods, and grits out: </p><p> </p><p>“Alright.” </p><p> </p><p>Pez grins and goes back to his phone, and Henry stares out of the soft clouds outside that coloured the cotton blue sky, before he was engulfed back into the world of dreamless sleep, and a place where he didn’t have to think about Alex, nor anything else, really. At least, sometimes. </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Step 8: New Year's Eve celebrations, dancing, and a kiss</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The overhead announced they were about to touch down in D.C. It was too soon.</p><p> </p><p>Henry felt an overwhelming sense of nauseousness when they reached the British consulate and dropped their bags off. He had half a mind to just turn back around right now, but Alex would get the wrong idea if he didn’t show now. </p><p> </p><p>He could go pretend they were friends for a few hours. Even if he knew Alex would look great. Even if he knew he would likely be following Alex around all night. Even if the alcohol might make him let a few confessions slip. </p><p> </p><p>A secret part of Henry was curious though. Would Alex find someone to kiss at midnight? Would the elusive and mysterious Liam show up? Oh god, what if he was a third wheel all night?</p><p> </p><p>Pez poked him on the shoulder and pulled him from his thoughts. Their car had arrived at the White House and people greeted them immediately. Henry admired all the decorations as they passed. He took in the elegant designs and color scheme. Basically, he was doing anything to get his mind off of the fact that he would be in the presence of Alex Claremont Diaz in just a few moments. </p><p> </p><p>They finally arrived at the ballroom and it took no time at all for Henry to spot him.</p><p> </p><p>He spots Alex standing out in his gorgeous maroon suit. He always shines a little brighter than everyone else making it even easier to find him in the crowd.</p><p> </p><p>He’s wondering if he should go over to say hi, but he sees the exact moment Alex spots him. </p><p> </p><p>Well, Pez actually. </p><p> </p><p>Pez’s vibrant outfit is so attention grabbing Henry can only hope to blend in the background more. With one exception, he did select a colorful tie for tonight (mainly so Alex wouldn’t have another excuse to call him boring).</p><p> </p><p>Alex rushes over to them and it’s a strange experience for Henry.</p><p> </p><p>This time, unlike all the others, Henry knows it’ll be a friendly encounter. They’ve exchanged thousands of texts, secrets, and even a few late night phone calls. They’re friends against all odds. No one’s making them act this time. It’s all real.</p><p> </p><p>“Nice tie,” is how Alex greets him and Henry smiles knowing he made the right choice.</p><p> </p><p>He takes Alex in now that he’s standing a bit closer. He thinks if possible, Alex is even better looking now than a few months ago. Henry can tell how happy Alex is, but he’s not sure if it’s the alcohol, the party, or Henry’s arrival that’s the cause of this.</p><p> </p><p>“Thought I might be escorted off of the premises for anything less exciting.”</p><p> </p><p>As he says this, June comes up from behind Henry and asks, “And who is this?” </p><p> </p><p>She gestures towards Pez and Henry realizes he was so focused on Alex, he forgot about introducing Pez.</p><p> </p><p>“Ah yes, you’ve not officially met, have you? June, Alex, this is my best friend, Percy Okonjo.”</p><p> </p><p>Pez extends his hand to Alex and says, “Pez, like the sweets.” </p><p> </p><p>Then, he looks at June. Henry, fully aware of Pez’s crush on her, is unsurprised when Pez makes his move.</p><p> </p><p>“Please do smack me if this is out of line, but you are the most exquisite woman I have ever seen in my life, and I would like to procure for you the most lavish drink in this establishment if you’ll let me.”</p><p> </p><p>Henry sighs internally. If only he could get away with saying things like that.</p><p> </p><p>Alex lets out an unintelligible, “uh” while June tells him “he’s a charmer”.</p><p> </p><p>“And you are a goddess.”</p><p> </p><p>Just like that, they’ve disappeared into the crowd hand in hand. They’re already dancing together. Henry’s almost jealous it took Pez less than five minutes for what Henry’s been wanting to do with Alex for five years.</p><p> </p><p>Alex’s full attention turns to Henry now that they’re alone. He can feel Alex staring at him, so he tells him, “That man has been begging me to introduce him to your sister since the wedding.”</p><p> </p><p>“Seriously?” </p><p> </p><p>“We’ve probably just saved him a tremendous amount of money. He was going to start pricing skywriters soon.”</p><p> </p><p>Alex laughs at this, a real full and beautiful laugh. Henry smiles just hearing it, knowing he did that.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, come on. I’m already two whiskeys in. You’ve got some catching up to do.”</p><p> </p><p>It passes like a blur. Usually talking to people he didn’t necessarily care to talk to was a bore, and made him feel like a hundred hours drifted by, but with Alex by his side, it was much more tolerable. </p><p> </p><p>Bodies moved against the rhythm and drinks were poured generously. Henry even heard a speech about the immigration fund from June that they were supporting with their donations tonight, and surprisingly, Henry is having fun. </p><p> </p><p>(He even makes a joke about how melodramatic Alex was to June, who practically falls out of her chair.) </p><p> </p><p>Of course, he eventually gets dragged to the dance floor. There’s some awkward tumbling, his hands, and feet spinning around, unsure what to do with them - dancing really wasn’t his forte. Unless it was ballroom dancing. This he knows. He knows where to put his hands, and how his movements should be, and how he should glide against the ballroom floor. But this, however, he admits, he doesn’t have much of a gist of how this works. </p><p> </p><p>And then, as if the tide of people pushed Henry towards him, he finds Alex. It’s as if there’s some pull between them and they’re both hopeless to it. Henry’s first move is to reach out to him, but then he remembers he can’t and forces his hands back to his side.</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t dance?” Alex asks him while swaying slightly.</p><p> </p><p>“No, I do. It’s just the family mandated ballroom dancing lessons didn’t exactly cover this.”</p><p> </p><p>Belatedly, Henry regrets drinking so much. As he thinks this, he can’t stop looking at Alex. He feels himself drifting closer than normal. He relaxes more the closer he gets. It just feels right.</p><p> </p><p>“C’mon it’s like in the hips. You have to loosen up.” He says this and reaches out placing both of his hands on Henry’s hips.</p><p> </p><p>Surprised by the contact, he tenses. This is too intimate to just be friendship in Henry’s opinion.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s the opposite of what I said.”</p><p> </p><p>Henry tries to protest, “Alex, I don’t-”. </p><p> </p><p>“Here. Watch me.” As if Henry could do anything else. Alex is hypnotising. Henry’s realizing again just how gorgeous Alex is. He’s thankful Alex cut him off earlier so he didn’t finish saying, <em> Alex, I don’t dance in public with guys I’m attracted to. </em></p><p> </p><p>None of that matters though. The closer Alex is, the more Henry just wants to let loose and go along with it.</p><p> </p><p>Henry’s just starting to get the hang of it when Alex yells, “Shut up! Shut your dumb face, this is my shit!”</p><p> </p><p>Confusion takes over as Henry tries to decide if Alex was serious or not. Or what he’s even talking about. </p><p> </p><p>Apparently not recognizing the song was an offense to Alex. Alex tries to explain, “Did you seriously never go to an awkward middle school dance and watch a bunch of teenages dry hump to this song?”</p><p> </p><p>Henry’s grip tightens on his glass. “You absolutely must know I did not.” If Alex kept throwing out phrases like booty calls and dry hump, Henry was going to have trouble thinking of anything else. </p><p> </p><p>Henry watches as Alex spots someone else and begins yelling, “Nora! Nora! Henry has never watched a bunch of teenages dry hump to this song!”</p><p> </p><p>She leans in to hear him better, “What?”</p><p> </p><p>Henry’s had enough of this, “Please tell me nobody is going to dry hump me.” </p><p> </p><p>Something about that propels Alex to come even closer to Henry. Suddenly, Alex is gripping onto his shirt and about a breath away. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh my God, Henry. You have to dance. You have to dance! You need to understand this formative American coming of age experience?”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Will I ever learn to say no to him?  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He’s just beginning to get more into it when Nora pulls Alex away. She starts dancing on Alex and Henry wants to turn away, but he hates himself enough so he watches. </p><p> </p><p>For the first time in the entire night, his smile drops from his face. He’s starting to feel annoyed over the whole thing when he catches the lyric “sweat drop down my balls” and wants to burst out laughing.</p><p> </p><p>June comes by and grabs Nora. Alex grabs a shot from a nearby tray, and the room continues to spin. The only focal point for him is on Alex.</p><p> </p><p>The music changes again and Henry tries dancing a little.</p><p> </p><p>Alex seems to notice his attempt and encourages him with, “Fuck it up, vato!” Henry finds himself laughing in response and gets more into it. Shaking his hips for Alex a little.</p><p> </p><p>June goes over and says something in Alex’s ear. Whatever it is catches Alex off of his guard. He fires back with, “I thought you were too busy for guys!” and then turns his head towards where Pez is attempting to make their way towards the group.</p><p> </p><p>More upbeat songs play. It’s just him and Alex. Henry’s loving every second of it. At some point, Henry switches to drinking straight from a wine bottle. Confetti blasts from somewhere and he just watches the blue and gold rain down as Alex tries to catch some of the pieces. </p><p> </p><p>Soon, they announce it is 11:59. Henry knows what’s coming. He wishes he was just like anyone else and could ask Alex to kiss him. He turns anyway to search for Alex. At least he might not be kissing anyone else either.</p><p> </p><p>His stomach drops though to the sight of Alex kissing Nora as it blasts out as 12:00. 2020. </p><p> </p><p>Fucking great.</p><p> </p><p>The one tabloid they get right is the only one Henry cares about. </p><p> </p><p>Alex breaks off his kiss with Nora and catches Henry’s stare. Even though Alex smiles brightly, Henry feels his heart breaking. Of course he’s smiling. He’s with his girlfriend, forced friend, and sister at this fun party.</p><p> </p><p>He wants to go mope by himself somewhere. Alex won’t even miss him anyways. He turns from the party and gets lost in the crowd of people. Half of him hopes Alex looks for him and the other half craves being alone.</p><p> </p><p>Finally, he makes his way outside. Even though it’s freezing and dark out, the night is beautiful. He leans against a tree and closes his eyes. He wonders how he got it all wrong. Even though all the signs were there. He’s going to be replaying that kiss in his nightmares for weeks. Henry can’t shake feeling stupid for thinking Alex Claremont-Diaz might like him too.</p><p> </p><p>He looks up the stars and wonders if he should say something anyways. Maybe it would change something. Maybe Alex would really see Henry then. </p><p> </p><p>He searches for constellations and listens to the music from outside. It’s peaceful and comforting. He wishes for them to grant him a happy fate.</p><p> </p><p>As if on cue, he hears a voice ask him, “What are you doing out here? </p><p> </p><p>Alex. </p><p> </p><p>Something about his presence makes him feel comforted already. He inhales and exhales. </p><p> </p><p>Sometimes he wonders if it would’ve been better if they went back in their game of tug of war - with Alex throwing fruitful words at Henry, and Henry glossing his with silk, and the undercoating of poison. It sure hurts a little less than seeing him with Nora, or anyone else. </p><p> </p><p>He hates it. He really does. He hates this feeling - ridden by jealousy, envy clogging his insides until he’s at the brink of exploding. It twists and gnaws at him, producing something ugly and flawed, trapping him in an unattainable cage that he doesn’t know how to crawl out of. It burns, and burns, and he thinks he tastes bile in his throat. </p><p> </p><p>Henry debates his words, unsure what to say. His tongue felt knotted, no words managing to escape him. God, he doesn’t even know what he should say. He was jealous of Nora and Alex kissing? That he secretly wished that it was him, instead of Nora? </p><p> </p><p>“Looking for Orion,” Henry says, instead of the words that clamber into his mind. Hopefully, it sounded convincing. </p><p> </p><p>“You must be really bored with the commoners to come out here and stare at the clouds,” Alex murmurs, with a laugh. </p><p> </p><p>Henry has to bite the inside of his cheek; he watched as Alex watched the sky with a vague curiosity, in efforts to figure Henry out. There was nothing that intrigued him about the sky that towered above him - the only thing that interested him, was the man who stood beside him. Henry drowned in the sight of Alex’s eyes, the visage of hazelnuts, and the ample curve of his jaw. His smooth, pink lips, that Henry had pondered over for years. What they’d feel like against his. Though that was always a fantasy of his. </p><p> </p><p>So in the end, he steers away from the current of his thoughts, and continues. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m not bored,” he murmurs, the words thick against his tongue. “What are you doing out here? Doesn’t America’s golden boy have some swooning crowds to beguile?” </p><p> </p><p>He says it as a way to push Alex away and get back to their old ways. If they keep it up, his heartbreaks will devour him. </p><p> </p><p>“Says Prince Charming.” </p><p> </p><p>“Hardly,” Henry mutters bitterly. It’s all bitter, and has to bite down on something to not let the words slip out of his mouth. It’s all unruly, more bitter coffee lacking sugar. And it all pents up inside his chest, unmoving, rising up like hot air. </p><p> </p><p>Alex just looks at. Frowning, tilting his head, as though Henry was a puzzle to be solved. </p><p> </p><p>“You didn’t really answer my question, though,” Alex says. </p><p> </p><p>Henry groans. It seems Alex won’t let this go. He puts his hand on his face as he thinks <em> do I tell him? Is he worth the risk? What if he does like me, then what do I do? </em></p><p> </p><p>“You can’t leave well enough alone, can you? Sometimes it gets a bit much.”</p><p> </p><p>Alex continues to stare at Henry. He’s still not getting it. Alex steps even closer and suddenly, their shoulders are touching. Whether it’s the alcohol or his proximity, Henry can think of nothing else but the physical link between them. It feels almost like Alex is taking some of Henry’s stress away in doing so. He smiles at the thought.</p><p> </p><p> “Do you ever wonder, what it’s like to be some anonymous person out there in the world?”</p><p> </p><p>Alex frowns in confusion, “what do you mean?”</p><p> </p><p>“Just, you know. If your mum weren’t the president and you were just a normal bloke living a normal life, what things might be like? What you’d be doing instead?”</p><p> </p><p>Alex considers him for a moment. He makes a gesture in the air before them, “Well, I mean, obviously, I’d be a model. I’ve been on the cover of Teen Vogue twice. These genetics transcend all circumstances. What about you?” </p><p> </p><p>Of course. Alex can’t even give a real answer. He rolls his eyes and without thinking admits, “I’d be a writer.”</p><p> </p><p>Alex laughs. It’s not mocking, but more of him saying <em> duh </em>. He pauses, “Can’t you do that?”</p><p> </p><p>“Not exactly seen as a worthwhile pursuit for a man in line for the throne, scribbling verses about quarter-life angst. Besides, the traditional family career track is military, so that’s about it, isn’t it?”</p><p> </p><p>He hadn’t planned on telling Alex as much, but Henry couldn’t bring himself to care anymore. He had never stopped himself from wanting that other future. In a parallel universe, maybe he would be a writer. Maybe Alex would be his boyfriend. Maybe he could be his own person.</p><p> </p><p>He thinks about the possible future he could have had. Biting his lip, he lets slip, “I’d date more, probably as well.”</p><p> </p><p>Alex, laughing, seems to think this is a joke. “Right, because it’s so hard to get a date when you’re a prince.”</p><p> </p><p>Henry glances back down at Alex. Did he not realize that Henry only wanted a date with Alex?</p><p> </p><p>“You’d be surprised.”</p><p> </p><p>“How? You’re not exactly lacking for options.”</p><p> </p><p><em> There is only one option, Alex, </em>Henry thinks.</p><p> </p><p>“The options I’d like, they don’t quite seem to be options at all.”</p><p> </p><p>Alex looks even more lost. Henry would really have to spell it out for him.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m saying I have people who interest me. . . But I shouldn’t pursue them. At least not in my position.”</p><p> </p><p>He responds, “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”</p><p> </p><p>Could he be anymore blind?</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t?”</p><p> </p><p>“No”</p><p> </p><p>“You really don’t?”</p><p> </p><p>Alex slightly shakes his head, “I really, really don’t”</p><p> </p><p>Frustrated, Henry groans. He looks towards the sky again. Wishing for something to tell him what he’s supposed to do. He thinks he spots Cassiopeia. Thinking about royalty, love, and consequences, something urges him to say, “Christ, you’re as thick as it gets.”</p><p> </p><p>He pulls Alex in closer, cupping his face, and gives him a chaste kiss. Alex pauses for a moment before deepening their kiss. </p><p> </p><p>Everything about it is as wonderful as Henry could imagine. He places every bit of longing, desire, and admiration into the kiss. He wants Alex to know, without a doubt, that Henry wants him. </p><p> </p><p>He’s tugging on Alex’s curls until it hits some sobering part of his mind realizes what he’s doing. Panicking, he pulls away and curses. He stumbles back and forces himself to move away from Alex.</p><p> </p><p>The flushed image of Alex looking pleasantly stunned stays in his mind. </p><p> </p><p>He rushes to find Pez, who is annoyed to be pulled away from June. Henry just says, “we have to go now” while pulling him by the arm. He’s so, so thankful that Pez doesn’t question him about this. He’s amazed Alex hasn’t already caught up to him to yell or punch him.</p><p> </p><p>Finally, they’re on their way out of the White House. Somehow, their car is there waiting as if the driver knew Henry needed a rescue.</p><p> </p><p>On the drive back Henry tells Pez everything.</p><p> </p><p>“So, I think Alex knows I’m gay now.”</p><p> </p><p>“Is that what’s brought this panic on?” </p><p> </p><p>“I kind of hinted at it, but he’s so oblivious. I truly don’t understand how he didn’t realize it, so I may have kissed him.”</p><p> </p><p>Pez begins to cheer. “Well, it was about time, mate! I could tell he wanted you back, so why are we fleeing the White House?”</p><p> </p><p>Henry groans. Maybe he should’ve stayed after all? He was a coward through and through though. He would’ve needed at least three more shots before he could face Alex after that. </p><p> </p><p>“Pez, I think he’s dating Nora. I don’t think he wanted me to do that. He probably hates me for crossing that line.”</p><p> </p><p>“H, believe me, they’re not together. I know that from the source.” Pez couldn’t stop grinning at this turn of events. He finally met June and had the satisfaction of witnessing the aftermath of Henry’s attempt to make a move first hand.</p><p> </p><p>“That doesn’t mean he likes me!”</p><p> </p><p>“Anyone with eyes can see that he does. How was the kiss?”</p><p> </p><p>Henry considered for a moment. It had seemed like Alex had been into it. He was the one to break it off. In fact, Alex was the one who had deepened the kiss. </p><p> </p><p>“It was intense. Better than any I’ve had before.”</p><p> </p><p>He thought back to Alex’s expression when he ended their kiss. Was he making up a flash of disappointment among the confusion? </p><p> </p><p>“See, he does like you.”</p><p> </p><p>Henry didn’t want to believe it, but there was no talking Pez out of this now. He couldn’t get his hopes up that Alex did actually like him because it was not an option. He had meant what he said.</p><p> </p><p>Alex isn’t an option even if it’s the only one he wants. Especially if it’s the only one he wants.</p><p> </p><p>Henry berates himself the entire flight home after convincing himself Alex hates him for sure now. If he didn’t hate him for the kiss, he would hate him for fleeing the country after it. Maybe he never even stopped hating him.</p><p> </p><p>He had lost whatever Alex was willing to give him. Somehow it felt like any hope inside was snuffed out. </p><p> </p><p>This feeling was worse than what he had before getting to know Alex. This was losing something Henry desperately needed, but didn’t learn of its importance until it was too late. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Step 9: a reunion, the Red Room, and a rendezvous</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Alex:</b>
  <span> Hey, can we talk? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Alex: </b>
  <span>I need to talk to you. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Alex: </b>
  <span>You do not get to just ditch me.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Since his escape on New Year’s Eve, Henry had made himself unreachable. After Alex had texted him several times, he couldn’t stand to face what he had done. He thought it would be best to block Alex’s number, but as his finger hovered over it, he couldn’t bring himself to shut Alex out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the days following his abrupt return to England, Henry had thought of nothing but Alex. Whenever he watched a movie, he wondered what Alex would think of it. When he found something remotely comical, he wanted to send it to Alex to see if he’d laugh. When Philip did something ridiculous (which was always), he wanted to tell Alex about it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He missed him more than he ever would have realized. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not for the first time, Henry cursed himself for being so foolish. He was too selfish and greedy; he had wanted more and more of Alex. He felt addicted to Alex Claremont-Diaz. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But he had thrown it all away. All because he let himself drink a little too much and destroyed his self control. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was no going back to their easy friendship. As much as Henry wanted things to go forward, he knew there were a few problems.</span>
</p><p> </p><ol>
<li><span>Alex might be straight and hates him for the kiss</span></li>
<li><span>Alex might be gay and isn’t into him</span></li>
<li><span>Henry’s still a prince and they can’t be open about their true feelings</span></li>
<li><span>If by some miracle Alex did like him, he deserved better than Henry</span></li>
</ol><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was no easy solution in sight. He thought about this constantly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry came to realize his biggest regret from the night was not staying. If he had just stayed, he would know if Alex hated him. He would know if Alex was straight or liked him at all. He wouldn’t have to wonder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Part of him recognized that he could find all of this out if he just texted Alex back. By the time he figured it out though, Alex had stopped trying to contact him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even though it was Henry’s fault, it still hurt worse than anything else. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Two weeks into his pity party, he had completely withdrawn from Bea or Pez. He didn’t want them to deal with him like this. He didn’t want to hear Pez’s encouragement to contact Alex. Or Bea’s requests to go over what happened at the party (he still wouldn’t speak of it). </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was determined to binge every episode of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Bake Off</span>
  </em>
  <span> and never speak to anyone again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately, a prince cannot have such plans.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shaan eventually dropped by to give Henry the itinerary for the State Dinner at the White House. The disquieting feeling in his stomach grew larger as he realized it was only a few days away. He briefly considered canceling or pretending to be ill, but everyone would see through it. Grandmother would never allow it either since it was his “royal duty” to attend.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was no way out of this but through.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He would see Alex again in only eight more days. The thought both excited and terrified him. Mostly terrified, but some part of his mind supplied hope that maybe Alex wasn’t mad. Maybe they could go back to being friends and just pretend it didn’t happen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thoughts about what he would do when he saw Alex warred in his mind. He debated between an apology or explanation; however, when the time came, he did neither.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The day leading up to the State Dinner, Henry is a nervous wreck. He does his best to appear confident, but when he sees Alex, all bets are off. He catches sight of Alex and trips. He briefly debates making a run for it or run to him, but he forces himself to calm down. Of course Alex would look perfect as always. Seeing Alex forced him to come to grips with how much he had missed him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Naturally, this is when someone calls them to take photos together.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, cool to see you’re not dead or anything” is how Alex greets him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry begins to shut down. Not even knowing how to respond. He’s pissed at himself for letting all of this happen. He thinks of some alternate universe where Henry doesn’t kiss Alex and now they can have fun at this function together.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We need to talk,” is the final nail in Henry’s coffin. Whatever Alex has to say cannot possibly be good.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By some miracle, Alex is forced to leave and head off to the Dining Room. At least it'll give Henry time to think of a worthy apology. Throughout the dinner, he finds his eyes wandering back over to Alex. He wishes they were sitting closer so he could listen to Alex speak. It felt so pathetic, but he was desperate for some piece of Alex. It was likely the last time he would see the American for a while.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually, Nora comes over to the table to greet him. She asks him if he wants to go find the profiteroles. They are just reaching the table when someone squeezes in between them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His sudden appearance surprised Henry, who can do nothing else but let Alex yank his arm and pull him from the table. “Sorry to interrupt. Important, um. International. Relations. Stuff.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Unable to think of a way to stop this he inquires, “Do you mind?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex smirks and tells him to “shut his face” before leading him away from the rest of the people.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They pass by a Secret Service agent who asks, “You’re not going to kill him, are you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Probably not.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So Henry is going to die. Whatever is about to happen will one way or another. Then, he’s being pushed into a room. It takes him a few moments to realize it’s just the two of them. Yup, definitely going to die.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What on God’s earth are you doing?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shut up! Shut all the way up! Oh my god,” Alex hisses at him. The look he’s giving Henry is so intense he can’t shy away from it. He’s filled with want for Alex. Suddenly, he’s being shoved against a wall and prepares for Alex to start screaming or punching him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next thing he knows, Alex is kissing him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Alex kissed him</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It’s more than he ever hoped for. It’s better than the first kiss knowing that Alex wants this too. After a month of no contact, just this one kiss is enough to fill Henry up again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait-” Alex looks more pissed that Henry interrupted than he did this whole evening. “Should we-?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I mean, er, should we, I dunno, slow down?” Henry immediately cringes at how that sounds. After all, he’s the one who kissed Alex first. “Go for dinner first or-?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex gives him another look, “We just had dinner.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right, I meant- I just thought-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stop thinking.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, gladly.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex then maneuvers Henry onto this table after knocking the candelabra off. Alex leans in towards Henry again, but he looks up and breaks into hysterical laughter. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For a moment, Henry’s worried this is a joke or some prank, but Alex wouldn’t be that cruel, would he?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One moment later though, and they’re back to passionately kissing. Henry guesses the laughter was however they were positioned or this bizarre scenario of them making out in a coat closet below the picture of a Founding Father. Not able to think of a more concrete guess as Henry is busy slowly peeling off Alex’s suit. He wants them closer than they are now. Alex is biting his lip and they hit the portrait’s frame. Henry looks a knee around Alex to pull him even closer and Alex begins to caress his thigh. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s amazing and feels dreamlike, which is only enhanced by the agenta shouting, “Time’s up!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry freezes, fear climbing into his chest. A lump rose up inside his throat when he heard the throng of bodies sitting outside. He was so wrapped up in Alex; Alex kissing him, Alex’s lips on his, the world had vanquished for a few minutes. Flames arose everywhere Alex touched him. His fingers were magnetic, electricity raiding every end of his skin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry hips gave Alex one last push, a noise of surprise slipping out of Alex’s mouth, before a swear came out of it. It’s all filthy and filled with messy bed hair and riveting gasps, and something Henry wants to explore, and certainly something Henry never thought he’d ever witness. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to die.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to kill you,” Alex says. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, you are,” Henry agrees. Alex takes a step backwards and then looks at Henry. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“People are going to be coming in here soon,” Alex says, reaching down and trying not to fall on his face as he picks up the candelabra and places it back on the table. Henry, surprisingly manages to stand, hair disheveled, shirt unsheathed. Henry’s breath is caught in his throat when Alex pats it down in place, “Oh fuck, you look - </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry hums Gods Save The Queen under his breath, fumbling with his shirt, having the impulse to bite his lip.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Christ, I’m trying to make it -” he gestures to the front of his pants, without a touch of grace - “go away.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ok, so,” Alex starts. He must be used to this, or something. Henry tries not to feel the envy clogging his veins at the people he might’ve done this with; But the bossiness that exudes from him, certainly turns him on, and makes every inch of his skin feel hot. Right now, however, certainly wasn’t the time. “Yeah. Here’s what we’re going to do. You are going to be, like, five hundred feet away from me for the rest of the night, or else I’m going to do something that I will deeply regret in front of a lot of very important people.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“All right…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And then,” Alex says, moving closer, and Grabs Henry’s tie again, his fingers lithe and slow, curling around the end of his tie. He closed the knot, and drew his mouth an inch away from Henry’s. Henry swallows, skin vibrating. “And then you are going to come to the East bedroom on the second floor at eleven o’clock tonight, and I am going to do very bad things to you, and if you ghost me again, I’m going to get you put on a fucking no-fly list, got it?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry swallows, again, for what feels like the ten thousandth time, Alex’s close proximity, and the sensual tone behind his voice, and his proximity, does a number on him. Alex’s hand merely reached to his tie, wrapping it into a quick motion, and Henry had succumbed under his stare, and his voice, that made his legs feel like jelly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And Henry surprised even himself when he managed to weave the word </span>
  <em>
    <span>perfectly </span>
  </em>
  <span>out in a somewhat articulate manner. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>___________________________________________</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry is running late. He is well aware of this. He’s usually very punctual - not even punctual, even, he’s usually around at least ten minutes earlier than the expected time - but when it came down to Alex, Henry was everything but punctual. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He remembers it all in perfect clarity. Alex straddling him, Alex kissing him hard with a sense of urgency, and the emotions that breathed beneath Henry’s skin when Alex pressed his hot mouth against Henry’s, doing the thing he does best: surprising Henry. He still had difficulty believing that it actually happened. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He felt something choking him; he smoothed out his suit and tie to smooth the creases, and attempted to swallow the anxiety ruptured inside his throat. A vast attempt really. He could still feel the nerves ghosting every end of his skin. But he also felt the exhilaration swimming inside his bones. He felt like he was on fire. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After what felt like a million years, he finally found the courage to knock on Alex’s door. He breathes in a sharp breath. Inhales and exhales. It feels like gulping down air with knives twisted beneath it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wonders whether he’s doing the right thing. He heard his Grandmother’s voice haunting him like a ghost in his head - taunting, following him - and for a good moment or two, he’s tempted to turn back. To go back to his room. To look back and never in Alex’s direction again, and forget this ever happened. Because it could never be. Sure, it was okay to feel flowers shoved inside his chest, and his racketing heartbeat whenever Alex was near, and poetry painted across his skin; it was okay if he kept it inside and let it breathe internally, and not externally. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Because they couldn’t be together. Not in the real world, anyway, where people knew him as the charismatic guy, with a smile that was painted like the sun - not his words, the sun and the guardian’s - and famously known as the prince of England. And, of course, not to forget Alex’s predicament as the son of the president. Prince of England and the son of the American president? The relationship was inevitably going to sink before it began sailing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>However, the moment when Alex opened the door, all flushed with his hair sticking in opposite angles, all thoughts died. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry throws Alex a nervous smile. He hopes it looks convincing and wipes away the anxiousness that he drowned in, a few minutes before. It’s not his award winning smile that he gives the press, it’s more genuine and real, and taken right from the juncture of his heart. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry I’m early,” he says. He nearly says late, but he’s reminded that he’s actually, in fact, early. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex bites his lip. “Find your way here okay?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There was a very helpful secret service agent,” Henry replies, his lips rising up. “I think her name was Amy?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex wears a wide grin. It’s full of sunshine and gold, and something as sweet as berries and tangerines. The smile he wore so effortlessly, looks good on him. Henry hooks his fingertips under Alex’s elbow, and Alex follows him, feet nudging against Henry’s. He breathes rapidly, their noses brushing, and when he finally kisses him, the curve of their lips move in fro. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry closes and locks the door behind them, sliding a hand up the nape of Alex’s neck, curling his fingers around it. Other than kissing, they’ve barely touched each other. But it feels as intimate as intimacy came. He could feel the waves and electricity ripping against his skin, the roll of thunder when he ghosted his fingers against the back of his neck, and the butterflies flooding the pit of his belly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t a stranger to kissing. The kisses he had were from University, with people who cared about his status, and the thrill it gave them to be kissing a Prince. It was often biting and rough, and firm, with a fear spilling into Henry’s chest like a flowing river, at the thought of getting caught. This, however, is not like any of those times. It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>different</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It’s Alex. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex means something to him; he’s the person he thinks about day and night, and moments in between. Alex is a thrilling disaster washed up in one; and a thief who managed to steal his heart, and loiters in Henry’s dreams, and is bright and colourful and has a way with his woven words that makes Henry’s chest ache and pummel inside his chest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry moves away and says, “How do you want to do this?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex doesn’t reply to his question and merely grabs Henry by his collar, pushes gently, and says, “get on the couch.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry complies, breath hitching inside his throat. Alex moved to stand over him, and Henry twitches at the intensity of his gaze and their close proximity. Alex’s mouth parts, his pink lips resembling cherries, inched closer to him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’ve been dodging me for weeks,” Alex says. He shifts slightly to bracket Henry’s stance. He leans down and places one band against the back of the couch, with his other pressing delicately over the dip of Henry’s throat. “You went out with </span>
  <em>
    <span>a girl</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m gay,” Henry says flatly. He presses one of his palms over Alex’s hips, and carries on,  “not something wise to pursue as a member of the royal family. And I wasn’t sure you weren’t going to murder me for kissing you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then why’d you do it?” Alex asks. He learns into Henry’s neck, dragging his lips over the skin behind his ear. Henry holds his breath. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Because I - I hoped you wouldn’t. Murder me. I had... suspicions that might want me too,” Henry says. He hisses when he feels Alex bite down gently on the side of his neck. “Or so I thought, until I saw you with Nora, and then I was...jealous…. And I was drunk and an idiot who got sick of waiting for the answer to present itself.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You were </span>
  <em>
    <span>jealous</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Alex says. “You want me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His mind flickers back to the night he saw him and Nora, and every single magazine he’s ever seen, and the rumours of Nora Holleran and Alex Claremont Diaz that circulated like a wildfire, and he feels the jealousy, thicker than water, surge up inside his chest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So he flips them over. Heat flooded his veins. He looked down at Alex, wrapped inside his gaze. “Yes, you preening arse, I’ve wanted you long enough that I won’t have you tease me for another </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking </span>
  </em>
  <span>second.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry doesn’t just like the desire painted inside Alex’s eyes, he lavishes it. He grips Alex’s hips and brings him close, so Alex is straddling his lap, and he kisses more hard and more intensely, the smooth, ample curve of Alex’s mouth pressing against Henry’s. It’s indescribable, really. But kissing Alex, and unravelling him with the touch of his lips and fingers igniting their skin, feels like a patch of vividly coloured hues thundering between the two of them, that only seems to grow and grow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex swallows the curse when he grinds down into Henry’s lap. The kisses are clumsy, messy, and pressing, and Henry gets a little lost in his lips. Though, it’s the best kinda way to get lost, he thinks. He gets a little drunk off the taste of Alex’s lips. There is no distinct taste of it, exactly. There’s a tang of citrus and lime; and he feels the supple and wet texture of Alex’s lips moulded against his. Alex weaves his fingers into Henry’s hair, and Henry practically melts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex kisses him like the world has dissipated. As if the world was nothing but dust and granite, and all they have are themselves, and the end of the world is at their feet. But it’s ok because they have each other. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry peels Alex’s shirt off with agile and swift movements. He paused, staring at Alex for a brief moment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hang on,” Henry says, making Alex groan in protest, but Henry’s fingers find Alex’s lips to shush him. “I want -” his voice wavers and rises, before he continues again, more firmly, this time. “I want you on the bed.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, come on, your highness,” Alex says, after a brief moment of silence. He shifts his weight in an attempt - which worked - to tease Henry. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re a dick,” he replies with a smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex climbs onto his bed and props himself up on one elbow as Henry kicks off his shoes. He can feel Alex’s eyes roaming over Henry’s body. When Henry looks up to meet Alex, it’s a look full of desire staring back at him. Henry takes his time getting over to Alex. Unsure of if this will happen again, he wants to remember tonight forever. It’s as close to his dreams as he will ever get.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Quit stalling” Alex calls out to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bossy” Henry tells him while he climbs up on the bed. He slides one leg between Alex’s legs and places his hand on a nearby pillow. He notices Alex is still wearing that key and chain as he slides his hand up Alex. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tapping the key, he asks, “what’s this?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex huffs at him as if annoyed Henry is taking his time. “The key to my mom’s house in Texas. I started wearing it when I moved here. I guess I thought it would remind me of where I came from or something.” Henry wants to listen so badly, but as Alex starts threading his hand through his hair, he gets distracted. “Did I or did I not tell you to quit stalling?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He snaps his full attention back to Alex. A little surprised, but pleased Alex is this eager. Alex pulls him into another kiss. It’s burning Henry up on the inside, but he just wants more. He shifts his weight onto Alex and feels Alex touch his waist. He pushes every bit of attraction, desire, and want, into the kiss. If this is all he gets with Alex, if this one night is it, he’s going to give it everything. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex shifts to kissing his neck, and Henry is unable to think of anything else. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe it gives him the courage to reach for Alex’s waistband and undresses Alex very quickly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He can tell Alex is enjoying himself when he lets out, “Oh my fucking God. Fuck.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can’t believe- God, you are the most insufferable goddamn bastard on the face of the planet, do you know that-fuck-you’re infuriating. You’re the worst. You-re-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry continues watching him and sees the look on Alex’s face. He looks godlike laying there. Perhaps a little flushed, but it does nothing except make him more beautiful.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you ever stop talking?” Henry challenges. “Such a mouth on you.” He decides to do everything in his power to shut Alex up. He wants him to feel so blissed out words won’t be able to describe it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It works for a while before Alex says, “Wait.” Henry immediately backs off. Trying not to panic, he waits for Alex before moving at all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I mean, yes, obviously, oh my God, but like if you keep doing that I’m gonna. . .It’s just that-that’s not allowed before I get to see you naked.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry wants to let out a sigh of relief. He tilts his head and smiles, “all right.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He allows Alex to flip him over and he kicks off his pants. Soon, Henry only has his underwear on with Alex pinning him down. Alex moves himself closer so they’re laying face to face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi” Alex whispers as if he needed to greet Henry again. To reset everything between them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hello.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to take off your pants now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, good, carry on.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even though he knows what Alex is going to do, he feels a shock go through him when Alex does it. It only makes him want Alex closer. He pulls him by his thigh to align their bodies better. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex begins kissing him down his neck, shoulder, and chest. The kisses continue down Henry’s body and he feels his heart begin to race as he realizes Alex’s intent. He reaches his stomach and then stops, “I’ve, uh, I’ve never actually done this before.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry reaches out to stroke Alex’s hair. Tonight was more than enough for him. Alex just being beside him was enough.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alex, you don’t have to, I’m” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex cuts him off with,“No, I want to. I just need you to tell me if it’s awful.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As if anything from Alex could be awful. Didn’t he know how perfect this was?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It takes him a minute before he realizes Alex wanted a response, “Okay, of course.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It feels like such a miracle. A real gift that Alex Claremont Diaz wants him. This wonderful, intelligent, beautiful human wants Henry. He’s almost overwhelmed with the thought of it all as he continues stroking Alex’s hair. It’s as soft and curly and lovely as he always imagined it would be. Alex glances up at Henry and catches his look of pure want. He’s blown away again by how perfect Alex looks. He lets out, “fucking eyelashes” before reciting other obscenities. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry’s overwhelmed by how amazing this all is and pulls Alex up to kiss him again. He can taste himself on Alex and relishes it. It’s as close as he will ever get to claiming Alex as his to worship.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wants to tell Alex, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Can you tell I’ve always wanted you? Was it as good for you as it was me? Please say yes, I don’t want anyone else. After this I won’t be able to turn back.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex breaks off their kiss to quietly ask “Not awful?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry can do nothing but smile. Of course Alex, it was perfect. “Definitely adequate.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He scoops Alex up against him, cradles him to his chest, desperate to pull him in. Nothing about this could be any better. Henry pins Alex to the mattress and begins kissing him. again. More confident this time now that he knows Alex wants this as much as Henry does. He moves down Alex to return the favor. Moments later, he’s unsure if the word, “sweetheart” really came out of Alex’s mouth or if Henry made it up. He continues kissing Alex everywhere and then hears “motherfucker” slip out from Alex. That one he lets himself believe was really said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry presses a kiss in the crease of Alex’s leg, all feathery and light, where he slung it over his shoulder. The mattress shifts beneath him when he moves, burying his face against Alex’s throat. Alex makes a small noise of appreciation, and Henry grinned, feeling a little devious; a rare display. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hmm,” he hummed, nose brushing against Alex’s. “If I’d known this was all it took to shut you up, I’d have done it ages ago.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck you,” Alex replies, with no bite. It used to clog his insides with dust at the sheer hatred in Alex’s voice, or the steely look in his eye, but now it sent every part of him with secluded warmth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex laughed into his mouth as Henry dragged him into another kiss, intense yet soft, his insides reduced into a feverish burn, rippling like a flowing river. It’s so amazing, he must be dreaming.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry rolls back over and wants to tug Alex with him, but stops himself from doing so.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He must’ve looked tense because Alex poked him and teased, “Hey, don’t freak out.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not freaking out.” Freaking out no, Henry’s thoughts were whirling. Wanting desperately to know if Alex enjoyed being with him as much. Wondering if this was a fantasy he’d have to wake up soon from.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex moved closer and said, “It was fun. I had fun. You had fun, right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fun wasn’t the right word for it. Glorious, wonderful, perfect, amazing, passionate, would’ve all been better choices.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Definitely.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay cool. So we can do this again, any time you want.” Henry feels Alex start to run his hands up and down his arm. This was basically Henry’s Heaven. Until that was followed with, “And you know this doesn’t like, change anything between us right? We’re still whatever we were before, just you know, with blowjobs.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry covers his face so Alex doesn’t see any emotion from him. He wished it were that simple. He knew he was falling hard for Alex, and he wanted friends with benefits. Whatever though, Henry would take it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry feels Alex stretch out beside him, “So, I guess I should tell you, I’m bisexual.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good to know,” Henry replied before taking a glance at where the sheet rested on Alex’s hip. “I am very, very gay.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He gives Alex a small honest smile. He’s barely been able to tell anyone that and he’s beyond thankful he can be himself with Alex. The way Alex is looking at him right now almost tricks Henry into believing this is something more for them. He gives Alex a soft kiss. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex then whispers, “Hey, you’re welcome to stay as long as you want, but I should warn you, it’s probably in both of our best interests if you go back to your room before morning. Unless you want the PPOs to lock the Residence down and come requisition you from my boudoir.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At that, Henry forces himself to pull away from Alex. He needs to put distance between them if he’s going to convince himself into this friends with benefits ordeal. “Ah, you’re right.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can stay for another round if you want to.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>To Henry, this solidified that it was definitely just a friends with benefits situation to Alex. If he stayed any longer, he would have trouble convincing himself otherwise.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Feeling a little disappointed, Henry started to get up. He fixed up his hair and said,”I rather think I’d- I’d better get back to my room.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He slowly gets dressed. Half hoping Alex admits he wants him to stay. This is better he tries to tell himself. This way it will be easier to hide things. It will be easier when Alex finds someone better and more available and leaves.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If he had and Alex ever had the real thing and it ended, Henry knew how dark his life would be. There would never be someone who understood him so wholly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He walked over to the door and faced Alex one more time before leaving. Unsure how to say goodbye, he stammered, “Well, er”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex chuckled, “For fuck’s sake man, you just had my dick in your mouth, you can kiss me good-night.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was something so purely Alex, Henry just had to laugh. They had one more amazing kiss, and then Henry forced himself to leave. He tried to make it back to his room as quickly as possible. He knew their clandestine hook up would surely be found out if anyone saw him right now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After getting back to his room, he cleaned up. Feeling peaceful and a little drunk on the idea that Alex liked him in some way, he fell asleep without difficulty. Dreaming of kind brown eyes and lively curls.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Step 10: Polo, Paris, and phone calls</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>From the moment he left the White House, Henry’s thoughts were consumed by Alex. How his body had felt against his. How soft his hair really felt. The sound of Alex cursing him out of pleasure. How Henry had never felt more whole than when he was with Alex.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everything reminded of him and all Henry could do was plot when they might see each other. Technically, they had fulfilled their contract, and they didn’t cross paths at that many events.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If Henry wanted to see Alex anytime in the next year, he was going to have to do something about it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And he desperately, desperately wanted to. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He considered a few options - inviting Alex to some impromptu vacation at one of their houses, asking him if he wanted to attend some convention with him, they could do something for Henry’s birthday, or maybe even coming to London again for some boring dinner Philip wanted to host. All of it sounded a little too much like dating however.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He really didn’t want to give Alex any reason to reject him. He honestly didn’t think he’d ever be bold enough to extend an invite again if that happened.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looked into different options, but inspiration struck when Shaan sent out his schedule for the month of February - the charity polo match. It was in the States and not too far from Alex. He could even make it a day trip. It was low key enough and Henry could make the excuse that he bought Alex’s seat for charity. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was so perfect that Henry wasted no time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before even fully thinking things over, he sent a message to both Alex and Shaan with the plans.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All it takes is a single call to Alex and him saying, “Look, I guess I’ll try to make it, but I’m really busy right now.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry laughed at the response, really he expected this from Alex now. He knows Alex well enough that this means, “Yes, I’m coming, but let me be dramatic for a moment.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When the day of the match approached, Henry felt nervous playing polo for the first time in years. He knew he was a talented player and usually never was nervous for a match; however, Alex watching him changed all of that apparently. He wanted to impress Alex, but all he could envision was falling off of his horse.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All during warm ups, he tried to scan the stands for Alex, but he couldn’t see him anywhere. There were too many people in the stands. It was a little disappointing as Henry wanted to see the look on Alex’s face as he watched a “white rich dude sport” as he so kindly called it over text last week. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even though he couldn’t see Alex, he felt him there. Something in the atmosphere changed and Henry felt any anxiety leak away. All of the sudden his attitude shifted and he knew he would play well today. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry felt Alex’s eyes on him the whole match and played the best game of his life. Maybe Alex’s presence gave him more motivation or maybe he just really wanted to show off. It had turned out Alex quite enjoyed his time watching polo as he found Henry and immediately directed him into a shed afterwards. It was almost comical how turned on Alex was at seeing Henry like this. Their brief time spent in the equipment shed leaves Henry feeling like an overheated car; spluttering and shaking, his body reduced to nothing but a hot frenzy. He, however, was not made by anything mechanical, he’s all soft skin, and created by flimsy and fragile bones that can be easily picked apart. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If he were a car  - sometimes he wished he was - then he wouldn’t be consumed with the emotions that spill out of him like a tidal wave  Then he wouldn’t have to pretend to be somebody else. A lot of the time it felt like he was inhabiting someone else’s body. He wasn’t truly himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But when he was with Alex, he felt like he was him. When he was with Alex, he felt alive. There isn’t anything he could remotely compare it to. He knows that being without him feels like swallowing water, and nails clawing against his throat, but being with him was something else entirely. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Whenever Alex brushes his lips over his, gazes at him, or places his fingers so delicately over a part of his body, or the way he </span>
  <em>
    <span>kisses </span>
  </em>
  <span>him. He feels it, then. A hum against his skin, bright and unyielding, and it burns all the way to his chest, and Henry thinks he doesn’t want this feeling - this rather indescribable feeling - to go away. He wants to hold onto it forever. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It makes him feel more alive than he has in years. Perhaps his whole life really.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry is the epitome of a blank canvas, and it’s Alex who paints him in gold, yellow, and red, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>blue</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>blue</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>blue</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It’s blue like a rippling river, blue like the unfurling waves of the ocean, blue like the sea of his heart, blue like the jeans that Alex wears, blue like the shades of blue that stay congested in his gut. The thing is, Henry never really felt seen. Of course, he’s been seen. But not </span>
  <em>
    <span>seen</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The press sees him. The people have seen him. Lots of people know him and see him through tabloids and magazines that spur his name. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But they didn’t know him. Not in the way Alex did. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex stripped him bare with his words. He unravelled him like a person unravelled the ribbon of their birthday present, and continued to see right through Henry’s facade like seeing his reflection through a looking glass. He was the first person to understand him. To know him. The real him. Not the one who was presented to the press, or the rest of the world. Just Henry. Henry. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Admittedly, it was a terrifying prospect: to feel so enamored of someone whose love was out of your jurisdiction. But, God - it’s the best feeling he’s ever felt in his entire life. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And it might be selfish and reckless and probably stupid, a recipe for disaster maybe, but he doesn’t want to let this feeling go. He doesn’t want to let Alex go. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Giving up Alex at this point would kill him. Henry knew he’d have to fight tooth and nail for this to work, but there’s very little he wouldn’t give up for this feeling. Even if it wouldn’t last forever, whatever time he got with Alex was sacred. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It seems Alex has the same idea about finding time to see Henry when he reads an email from the American about attending a conference together. Their emails quickly turn from friendly banter to flirty, innuendos. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he reads, “For example, I’ve been thinking about your mouth on me all week, and I was hoping I’d see you in Paris so I could put it to use.” Henry’s self restraint completely dissipates. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knows his obligation to go to Germany, but Paris with Alex? Even if they did have to attend a different boring conference, it was still Paris with Alex. Anywhere with Alex for company was better honestly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Without much more thought, he agrees. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So even though it pisses off Philip and forces Henry to endure a lecture about responsibility, he eventually does get out of Germany, as promised. He meets Alex near a herd of tourists by Place Du Tertre, and soon after they get drunk on each other’s lips. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry sinks down against the marble floor and stares up at Alex, for consent - for confirmation - to see if he really wants to do this. If he doesn’t, he’ll immediately get back up. But Alex nods, eyes growing a little darker, the yes tumbling out of his lips, a spitting resemblance of a drowning man grasping for air. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry smiles. And then he takes Alex in his mouth, and savours the taste of him, and the sound of the noises slipping out of him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And the rest of it sort of becomes a blur to him. It’s a little domesticated, he admits. They fall into bed, an hour or so later, after their freshly bruised lips, and skin that was now flecked with purple and red - the afterglow of Alex’s mouth on his skin. They sleep for a while, limbs lazily thrown against each other, pillows mushed together, and in unison, their bodies. Then morning comes and belatedly, Henry realizes they broke a rule. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They spent the night together and it was growing harder to believe they were just friends with benefits. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Paris is magical for them. It’s all bright and glowing lights. They treat themselves to room service and its difficult to believe any part of this could be better - the exception of Alex, of course - when he gets a taste of crusty baguettes, sticky tarts filled with fat apricots, and a copy of Le Monde that Alex makes him translate out loud. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex shares a buzzfeed article with him all about their “bromance” including a recent picture of them seen together in Paris. They have some unspoken agreement to continue seeing each other under the guise as “best friends” while really exploring this whole other side to their relationship. Henry’s beginning to think this fake friendship was his grandmother’s best idea since she took the throne.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But then reality looms over him, and he remembers that he has to go back to the real world now. The nights alone he has with Alex is a saving grace, his safe haven. Sometimes, it feels fake. It’s the resemblance of slipping into someone else’s life. Because it was forbidden. Because he was the prince. Because some things didn’t go their way. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The truth was as clear as rain, but it burns like iron inside his chest anyway. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry steals that copy of the Le Monde to remind him of this paradise. This world where he and Alex can just be. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>_____________________</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Somehow, the next few weeks allow them to meet frequently. As it turns out, Henry’s birthday is only a few weeks before Alex’s. Fortunately, everything aligns allowing for Henry to be in NYC to visit a non-profit while Alex is there for a voter registration event. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He works up the courage to send Alex a scandalous text: </span>
  <b>
    <em>Have rescheduled visit to New York for nonprofit business to this weekend. Will be in the city ready to carry out birthday floggings &amp;c.</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As soon as they meet, Alex is telling him, “I want you alone, now.” Nothing pushes Henry to his hotel faster than these five words. They do try to be very careful - knowing all of the press in New York must be watching them. They enter the room one at a time surrounded by PPOs (Alex’s who are grinning and trying to act like they know nothing).</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They share champagne, a buttercream cupcake, and many kisses. It’s a mind-blowing night. Perhaps the most fun he’s allowed himself to have in a while. There’s no one else he’d rather celebrate a birthday with.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The weekend ends with Alex begging Henry to download Snapchat. He’s taken advantage of it so far to send Alex pictures while in his polo attire, sharp suits, and sailing. All of Alex’s are completely ridiculous. Homework at all hours of the night, gossiping about June and Pez, or silly selfies with his glasses on. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s somewhat alarming to Henry how much of his mood becomes tied to his communication with Alex. He can feel himself smiling all day when he and Alex have time to talk basically non-stop. When Henry is stuck in lectures all day or Alex has class, he feels an ache as he wants to hear what’s going on with Alex.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They spent three hours on the phone one night debating various aspects of Harry Potter. Alex listens attentively to Henry’s explanation for how Remus Lupin is clearly gay. Unsurprisingly, Alex’s knowledge of history and politics allows them to discuss major events of gay history. He loves being able to interact with his part of his identity that others have been trying to deny for years. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex makes him feel free. Like he really can be anyone and do anything. Like he’s allowed to say his favorite author is Jane Austen. Like he’s allowed to think for himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Days later, he and Alex are still talking every day. Out of the blue, he gets a call from Alex asking, “Do you have a last name?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They talked about their names, their families, and history. Somehow, Alex senses that Henry is upset and he spills everything. For whatever reason, he’s comfortable telling Alex everything and anything. All the dirty secrets Henry has, Alex now knows. No matter what he tells him though, Alex hears him and understands. He truly sees Henry, not as the public figure Prince. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Having shared everything with Alex makes him feel lighter. As if confiding in Alex is helping keep Henry’s world from crashing down. He’s taking the pressure and anxiety away from Henry simply by just being there. He can tell Alex is angry for him about all that has happened. He knows the American would fight for him and stand up for him even when Henry did not feel up to it. Soon, Alex informs Henry that June knows about them. As much as it should worry him that someone will let it slip, he also wants to tell the world that he’s with Alex. </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Step 11: vodka shots, karaoke, and a hotel room</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
  <span>Henry wasn’t sure how all of the pieces managed to perfectly align, but somehow he was in Los Angeles with the White House Trio, Pez, and Bea. He hated to admit it, but he and Pez had excitedly talked too much about spending another night partying with the Claremont-Diaz siblings. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’re all sitting in their limo wearing the kimonos Pez got. Henry’s unsure how he was ever convinced to wear a lime green one that says “Prince Buttercup” over his low back. Alex’s kimono says “Hoe Dameron” which Henry thought was hilarious. He wondered if Alex knew that it was a French nickname for a young man obsessed with his appearance. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Somehow they end up in a karaoke bar Pez somehow knew about. Their security teams are there, but under the neon flashing lights, it feels like the six of them and all strangers. The bartender lines up shots for all of them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After tipping it back, he grimaces, “oh dear. What’s in these? Vodka?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pez and Bea are instantly giggling and Henry feels himself begin to blush. Unsure if it's the alcohol or embarrassment setting in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nora confirms that it is vodka and hears Alex inquire, “What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Something propels him to admit, “Oh, I haven’t had vodka since Uni. It tends to make me, erm. Well-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pez attempts to save him with, “Flamboyant? Uninhibited? Randy?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fun?” Bea offers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Excuse you! I am loads of fun all the time! I am a delight.” Henry’s only slightly offended but the alcohol makes him feel like being dramatic. He thinks Alex would approve.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He seems Alex smirking before turning back to the bar, “Hello, excuse me, can we get another round of these, please?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, so he wants to see me lose control?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Henry thinks to himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry flips him off anyways and everything starts to get blurry. He feels himself laughing and smiling non-stop. He wants to give credit to his current company, but maybe it’s the vodka talking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He thinks he catches Alex staring at him multiple times the entire night. He’s thankful the shadows hide him a little as he does the same. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The night is a whirlwind. Bea gets on stage and tears through a song. People send them over trays of shots. Pez gets on stage and the whole bar is absolutely loving it. Then he’s pulling June up on stage. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> Alex looks at Henry with such amazement. He watches Alex move to text something on his phone and when he thinks he feels his phone vibrate, he reads:</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Alex: wanna do something stupid?</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He can only respond, “what could be stupider than this?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex begins making a showing out of drinking from his beer bottle, and Henry feels himself become mesmerized. If his pants become a little tighter, he will just have to ignore that for now. Moments later, they’re sneaking off to the bathroom together.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Have I mentioned lately that you’re a demon?” he tells Alex.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah. Tell me again later.” Alex pulls Henry by the belt. Tugging him closer as he backs Henry into a stall.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You-you know this is still not convincing me to sing, don’t you?” Henry somehow manages to coherently get out. Alex begins kissing along his throat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You really think it’s a good idea to present me with a challenge, sweetheart?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry thinks that exact challenge is how he’s standing on stage now. He’s in front of the crowd. They’re cheering him on even though he’s absolutely butchering, “Don’t Stop Me Now.” Nora and Bea are on stage with him, but that does little to improve his own performance.  Everyone in the bar is super into the song, which somehow convinces Henry to go all out for an air guitar solo. The entire bar is screaming and making him feel electrified. Henry thinks this ought to prove his friends how much of a delight he is.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By the end of the wild song, he receives a standing ovation. He finds Bea first and then joins the rest of the group at their table. They leave to find their limo before harassing their driver into going through a drive thru. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>June and Pez are smirking at each other as they enter the lobby. Henry’s too distracted as he watches Alex walking slightly ahead of him. They make it up to their rooms and June tells them to be quiet even though they’re all stumbling down the hallway. Bea helps to guide the others into a room: Nora, June, and Pez in the other, and just Alex and Henry in the other.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I trust you two can handle yourselves?” she asks as she shepherds them to their room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Beatrice, we shall behave in a manner befitting the crown.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bea rolls her eyes, “Don’t be a tosser.” She must’ve known it was a joke because she kissed them each on the cheeks before heading to her room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’re both giggling as they fumble with their keycard and lock. Alex is sorta singing and whispering, “supersonic man out of you” into Henry’s ear. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Soon, they’re both falling into bed. Alex is kissing him and nothing else matters. It feels so, so good. Henry wonders how Alex just gets better and better at this. Then a thought crosses Henry’s mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hold on, hold on. I’m just realizing. All that earlier, and you haven’t gotten off yet tonight have you?” He gives Alex a burning look to indicate what he plans to do now, “Well, that just shall not do.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex takes advantage of the position to kiss Henry’s neck, “Hmm yeah? What are you gonna do about it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So bold of him to test Henry. He already knew exactly how he would take Alex apart. He pushes his hand through Alex’s curls before tugging, “I shall just have to make it the best orgasm of your life. What can I do to make it good for you? Talk about American tax reform during the act? Have you got talking points?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex is grinning, and even though he says, “I hate you” there’s no heat behind it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe some light lacrosse role-play?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry can’t help but laugh at Alex’s expression and pulls him closer, “O captain, my captain.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re literally the worst,” Alex tells him, which is immediately contradicted with another kiss from Alex. It’s more of a gentle kiss at first before transforming into something deep and heated. It makes Henry want all of Alex. It’s what prompts him to say, “I do actually, er, have an idea.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, I’m listening now. For real.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry must look a little nervous for Alex to get so serious. Maybe Alex wouldn’t want to have sex with him. Maybe the suggestion would freak him out and send him searching for June and Nora. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Instead of telling him, Henry guides Alex’s hands to his hole. They’re kissing the entire time, and Henry’s debating just saying it outright, but it seems Alex comes to the realization on his own. Alex pulls back to look at Henry, “you sure?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It makes Henry’s heart flip that Alex would ask him if it was okay. He would be more anxious if he were in Alex’s position.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know we haven’t, but, er, I have before, so I can show you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex smirks a little, “I mean, I’m familiar with the mechanics. But you want me to?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry’s wanted this for years. He wished he had the courage to tell Alex how much he wanted him, in every aspect.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He settles for, “Yeah. Yes. Absolutely.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He reaches for his travel size lube kit and a condom. Alex grins at the sight as if unable to believe Henry would carry around such a thing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is new,” Alex teases him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, well, we must all learn and grow, mustn’t we?” He gently kisses Alex’s hands. He begins sucking on two of the fingers, which effectively shuts up Alex from any further comments. He settles back down in the bed and begins allowing Alex to take over.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Something about being with Alex is intoxicating. It’s addictive and fun and different every time. They challenge and push each other. Sometimes it's filled with teasing and casualness, but other times it feels more emotional and serious. No matter what though, it’s better than any experience he’s had before. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This entire time tonight, they were watching each other. Henry was on alert for any sign of Alex’s discomfort, but the only look returned to him was one of adoration. The only words exchanged between them were Alex muttering, “baby” and then a series of “yes” or “please” from both of them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After they both come, Alex just lays next to Henry silently. He looks amazed when he looks at Henry. It makes Henry want to tell Alex how he really feels for him, but he doesn’t want it to seem in-genuine. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jesus Christ,” Alex mutters finally. Henry wants to laugh. He’s proud since clearly Alex enjoyed himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Would you describe it as supersonic?” Henry can’t help but tease him. Alex groans before the both start laughing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They argue over who has to sleep in the wet spot, continue to kiss, and talk about other things before passing out around four o’clock in the morning. Henry rolled Alex onto his side before falling asleep. Surprisingly, Alex didn’t complain once about becoming the little spoon. They’re touching everywhere skin to skin and somehow, it’s the best sleep Henry has had in ages.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Three hours late, their alarms brutally wake them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not even showering together can change Henry’s mood. From the instant he woke, he began dreading the return to England. He dreaded whatever Philip and his grandmother would make him do to change any “bad press” that may leak from this weekend. He just wants to stay here with Alex, even if Alex didn’t really care about him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex kissed him the entire time and made promises to call him soon, but he doesn’t want to grow hopeful that it’s because this is becoming more than sex. If it did become more than sex, Henry would have to end it. Either way, there’s no good choice for Henry. The only outcomes Henry can ever have are a fake marriage to a woman or being alone. He would never force Alex to keep whatever they have a secret for his entire life. He deserved more and better than Henry could ever offer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He feels Alex watching him the entire morning - first with concern and then with desire. He wishes they had more time and more excuses to see each other. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They all meet together in the hallway. It doesn’t go unnoticed to Henry how disheveled Pez, Nora, and June look. If there’s bright lipstick on the back of Nora’s neck, no one mentions it. Cash laughs when he sees what kind of state they’re in. He offers them all coffee and asks, “so this is the gang now, huh?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It makes Henry realize how true that is. They’re all friends now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry isn’t even on the plane for more than thirty minutes or separated from Alex more than an hour before he drafts up an email. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alex,</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I can’t think of a single way to start this email except to say, and I do hope you will forgive both my language and my utter lack of restaurant: You are so fucking beautiful” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He has a million different variations of the email, but he doesn’t send it until it’s been a week and he has done nothing but think of Alex. All week, he has been distracted thinking of how Alex Claremont-Diaz can do nothing but amaze him. How incredible Henry can feel when they’re together. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hits send. Even though this surely breaks their deal. This surely will tell Alex that this whole thing means more to him. That Alex means more to him.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Step 12: Tennis matches and family tension</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Remarkably, Alex emails him back. They’ve begun exchanging these emails which feels a whole lot like love letters. They’re filled with want and desire. This was better than any Jane Austen novel. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s not positive, but he swears Alex’s mood improves after receiving an email. Henry’s been keeping up to date on the American Presidential Race, and he can also tell when Alex becomes stressed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Whatever was bothering Alex seems to go away shortly after Henry sends him something. Or even if they’ve been texting back and forth long enough. Alex does the same for Henry though. Whenever he’s having a bad day and an email from Alex pops up, he’s instantly smiling. When Philip is boring him with conversations about propriety and a text comes through, he feels a wave of excitement pass through him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Better yet, he’s included with group chats with varying members of Alex, June, Nora, Pez, and Bea. It seems something is always brewing  amongst them and it makes Henry feel less alone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even though he knew it would be risky, Henry sends an invite to Alex to come for a tennis match. It’s an invitation to sit in the Royal Box with him and many other nobles. He’s not sure how Alex will react. Henry hopes Alex will come just to see him, but he could be stubborn and refuse. He could also be busy. Instead, Henry says nothing and just waits for Alex to receive the letter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Days later, Henry receives a picture of the invite with the caption:</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Alex: 1. Tf is this? Aren’t there poor people in your country? 2. I’ve already been in the royal box</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Of course, not even something most people dream of doing is enough to tempt him. Henry sighs before responding:</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Henry: You are a delinquent and a plague</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Henry: Please come?</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was pleased it hadn’t taken much more begging to bring Alex here. He honestly didn’t know what he’d do if Alex wouldn’t make it - despite how selfish that sounded - but he just knew that Alex’s presence calmed him more than a soothing cup of green tea, and he knew how much of a terrible event it would be. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And well, he considered the odds. There were so many, he could barely keep count. His family - with the exception of Bea - spending time with Alex in front of a couple hundred royals, and dear God, his Grandmother; or as some people like to call her, the queen of England. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But, he realised now, he didn’t much care about those fears. Fears that loom over him like a dark, bitter sky. He had Alex, and he believed with Alex by his side, he could conquer just about anything. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wondered whether Alex knew how impactful he was. And even behind closed doors, and guarding his heart like a fortress against others who wished to take a glimpse; it was Alex who crumbled those walls down, and found a heartbeat and discovered every inch of his fears and emotions that clung against him. Henry once believed that warriors were people who had shields and swords made of iron and hardened steel, but now, he realised how wrong he was. That wasn’t a warrior; a warrior was someone like Alex. Someone who possessed the strength of granite rock, whose heart fluttered with flowers and pretty petals, and pushed past the thorns that beat inside their chests, and conquered their demons. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex made him feel courageous. He inspired him to be brave, and strong, like him. Henry wonders whether Alex knew it, too. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, as I’ve warned you,” Henry says as they approach the doors to the Royal Box, “Phillip will be here. And assorted other nobility with whom you may have to make conversation. People named Basil.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think I’ve proven that I can handle royals.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Of course he could. It pushes Henry to admit, “You’re brave. I could use some of that.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They bump into several people. People of royal status, people who turned heads with their name. Henry remembers every one of them. That was his job, after all. It was much tolerable with Alex around, though. He always knew how to weave charisma with words that were smoother than velvet and silk. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And fortunately, all conversations come to an end, due to his sister, Bea smiles, all bright and dainty, wearing a lime green, silk dress with a pair of Gucci sunglasses to match her look. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oi, Alex! Henry!” she chirps, over the murmur of the box. </span>
  <span></span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look gorgeous,” Alex returns, accepting a kiss on the cheek. Bea grins at him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why thank you, darling,” Bea says. She takes Henry and Alex’s arms, and steers them down the stairs. “You sister helped me pick the dress, actually. It’s McQueen. She’s a genius, did you know?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been made aware.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Here we are,” Bea says when they’ve reached the front row. “These are ours.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry stares at the forest green cushions of the seat with ‘WIMBLEDON 2020’ sitting right at the front of the box. Wimbledon has always been a thing that Henry has gone to with Bea, himself, or Pez, but it’s rather strange yet thrilling to have Alex by his side - the guy who once detested him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Front and center?” Henry says, nervousness climbing into his voice. “Really?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Henry, in case you’ve forgotten, you are a royal and this is the royal box.” Her fingers flicker up to the photographers below, with a smile that was designed for the paparazzi. She leaned in and whispered, “Don’t worry, I don’t think they can detect the thick air of horn town betwixt you two from the lawn.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ha-Ha, Bea,” Henry responds monotonously, but despite the anxiety clawing at his chest, he takes a seat between Alex and Bea. He was sure, by now, his face resembled a tomato. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phillip and Martha arrive halfway through the day, bringing a thunderstorm with them in their wake. And as usual, they take their place next to Bea, but not before shooting a meaningful look at Alex. Whether it was simply Phillip’s natural charm, and his radiant personality behind cameras, or perhaps he was still holding a grudge against Alex because of the wedding cake fiasco. But, most likely Phillip’s personality. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Afternoon, Pip,” Bea chimes in politely, in a dire attempt to steer the tension between Phillip and Henry. “Martha.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry stills. He’s anticipating it now: the abrasiveness collected in Phillip’s tone, or managing to fit condescension within a few, short words that probably would’ve sounded polite to an outsider. But, by a simple sweep - not even a polite one at that - of his eyes and the judgement skittering </span>
</p><p>
  <span>beneath them, Henry isn’t sure how much he can take this. His bones practically rattle and burn at Phillip’s presence, he doesn’t know what he’d do when Phillip would open his mouth to say something demeaning, probably. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Henry,” Phillip says. Henry doesn’t acknowledge him and visibly tenses. “Good to see you, mate. Been a bit busy, have you? Gap year and all that?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Of course. Of bloody course Phillip would say something like that. It was part of his nature, after all. He often strung words that almost seemed neutral and embellished with honey, but really, it was far from that. It was more like a riddle, or a cryptic piece of poetry whose meaning couldn’t be solved. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Henry responds. “Lots of work with Percy. It’s been mad.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right, the Okonjo Foundation, isn’t it?” he says. “Shame he couldn’t make it today. Suppose we’ll have to make do with your American friend, then?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yep,” Alex retorts, not seeming to mind the mirthless smile Phillip threw at him, and grinned widely. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Though, I do suppose Percy would look a bit outside of the box, wouldn’t he?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Phillip.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, don’t be so dramatic, Bea,” Phillip says. “I only mean he’s a peculiar sort, isn’t he? Those frocks he wears? A bit much for Wimbledon.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry’s insides coiled up like a snake, hissing and consuming him with a venomous rage. He’s been taught to wield his feelings, and how to control in a certain way so nobody could know about what happened behind the royal doors; and to prevent people from discovering that the Royal family is the pristine and perfect family that everyone knows. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yet his face is set without a single frown, nor a line. He’s a clear, composed mask. Like he’s always been. As he’s taught to be. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They’re called dashikis, Phillip, and he wore one once.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right,” Phillip says. “You know I don’t judge. I just think, you know, remember when we were younger and you’d spent time with my mates from uni? Or Lady Agatha’s son, the one that's always quail hunting? You could consider more mates of..similar standing.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bea counters with, “We can’t all be best mates with the Count of Monpezat like you, Phillip.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phillip ignores her, and continues on. “In any event, you’re unlikely to find a wife unless you’re running in the right circles., aren’t you?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry feels the air squeezing in his lungs. It’s too hot, too tight, his angry fumes smothering the oxygen inside his lungs. He swallows the bile that threatens to rise up inside his throat in a wake of anger and frustration. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you’ll excuse me,” Henry stands and leaves. Part of him wants to drag Alex with him, but the rational and self preserving part of his brain tells him Alex will follow him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Almost ten minutes later, Alex finds him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Alex.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Has anyone shown you around the clubhouse yet?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nope.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, then.” Unable to stop himself, he reaches out and touches Alex’s elbow. Alex begins to follow him down the stairs and through a secret hallway. There is a small room with a bunch of old items stored away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As soon as the door closes, Henry moves close to Alex. They’re not quite touching but Henry can feel the heat between them. He gently places his hands on Alex’s hips and smiles.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“D’you know what I want?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” Alex replies in a low voice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I want to do the absolute last thing I’m supposed to be doing right now.” He gives Alex a look that should convey that Henry wants him. Right now. In this clubhouse.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex seems to understand as he straightens up, “Then tell me to do it, sweetheart.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s a challenge and a dare that Henry is more than happy to accept. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He reaches to undo Alex’s belt and whispers, “fuck me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex grunts out, “Well, when at Wimbledon.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry laughs and goes to kiss him. He knows he’s rushing things along but eventually his absence will be noticed. They don’t have a lot of time and there’s nothing that could stop Henry from being with Alex right now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just so we’re clear, I’m about to have sex with you in this storage closet to spite your family. Like, that’s what’s happening?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Was there a better way to spite your homophobic family than to fuck the American guy that you love in a storage closet at an elite event? Probably not.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry pulls out his travel sized lube, which he knew would come in handy again, and responds, “Right.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Awesome. Fuckin’ love doing things out of spite,” Alex says so seriously. This is why he’s the perfect partner in crime for this deed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Whether it was the spite or desperation, the whole experience was hot and ridiculous. Henry would do this willingly at every international event with Alex if their sex was like this every time. That was the special thing about being with Alex though - every time was great, but different. He would never grow tired of this boy. No one else would treat Henry this way and now that he experienced this, he’d never settle for anything else. Henry’s also started to realize that Alex brings out great qualities in him. He’s braver and stronger than ever before. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually, the closet gets a little cramped, “I’m quite finished with tennis, aren’t you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Somehow they manage to sneak up to his room. He walks Alex through the entire apartment and Alex seems both amazed and disgusted with the opulence. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He slowly moves them until they’re in a small parlor. It’s the only place in his set of rooms that he’s decorated even remotely how he would want his room decorated. It’s the only piece of Henry truly in the palace. There are signs of rebellion all throughout it, but at the center is Henry’s piano. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After being forced to learn an instrument, Henry used it as a way to share his feelings. Even though his grandmother and Pip may want to censor him, he can play out his heart there. This room has seen him devastated, anxious, mad, and euphoric. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s happy to share this one part of himself with Alex, who seems to brighten when entering this room.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Play something I don’t know,” Alex requests.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry sits down at the piano. Gently laying his hands on the keys, Henry tries to think of what he wants to play for Alex. He wants to impress him, but also make it clear that this is a gift for him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He starts off by playing some classical pieces and trying to explain the different musical movements. Alex seems mesmerized by his hands moving swiftly across the keyboard. Somehow, Henry’s playing the best he ever has. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s what gives Henry the courage to begin playing, “Your Song.” Henry knows the piece by heart so he closes his eyes. If he looks at Alex now, he knows he will mess up. Something about this moment makes Henry overcome with emotion. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Without a shadow of doubt, he knows he loves Alex. He wishes he wrote something original that was half as good as this. He means every part of it though. The world is infinitely better with Alex in it. Henry’s world has changed completely for the better with Alex in it. He wishes he could tell everyone that Alex is his, but that’s not their reality. While he still has Alex, he wants him to know how much he cares about him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When the song ends, Alex wants to do it on the piano and somehow Henry manages to refuse him. If he and Alex made love on the piano, he would never be able to return here after Alex was done with him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Except now, Alex is looking at Henry with something a little too close to affection. He wonders if it’s not just friends-with-benefits anymore for Alex. If it is though, this would have to end.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They move into Henry’s room and he lets Alex take him apart. If earlier was rushed and sexy, this was slow, gentle, and intimate. It becomes too much for him at one point and he begs, “Please, I need you to.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After they finish, Henry knows what perfect happiness is. Alex Claremont-Diaz in his arms. He wouldn’t wish for anything else. He wished he could give it all up to keep this man forever.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He just wished it didn’t hurt so much when Alex had to leave for America.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Step 13: A betrayal and a surprise visit</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The moment Alex leaves to go prep for the DNC, Henry begins obsessively checking the news. His newfound interest in American politics is directly related to his relationship with Alex. Depending on how things are going, Henry plans to offer moral support or congratulations. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Things can’t be going too well because he checks his phone and sees:</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Alex: I want to see a cage match between your grandmother and this fucking goul running against my mom</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He laughs and tells Alex he’d pay good money for that fight.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pez sends him a finalized schedule for their trip to New York and something clicks with Henry. He realizes the dates line up and conveniently, Alex will also be there. As much as he should avoid seeing Alex, his mind comes up with thousands of excuses why he should be by Alex’s side for this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>While they’re in New York, they hear constant details of the political campaigns. There are advertisements all over the place informing them to vote one way or another. Henry smiles whenever he sees Alex included in one of the advertisements. Seeing more of the first son would be enough to sway his vote.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pez and Henry travel out to Brooklyn and complete loads of paperwork for their LGBTQ center. He’s excited about opening one here and proud of his friend for doing such great work. He wishes he was less connected to the crown and able to do more things like this. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They celebrate the end of their great trip with one last dinner to a good pizza place. Once back at their hotel, they begin the preparation to fly back to London.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He continues to pack up his things and tells himself to stay away. The moment Henry is able to distract himself from plotting to see Alex is when the news breaks. Raphael Luna, Alex’s trusted advisor and family friend, is in the political cabinet running against President Claremont. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He gasps and calls out to Pez, “You’re not going to believe this, but Luna is joining the Richards campaign.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pez frowns, “Like their friend, Raphael Luna?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Indeed.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pez stops packing and turns towards Henry, “Maybe you should go.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know if he’d want that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Henry, he’s probably upset. He’ll need a friend.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s hard to argue against someone telling you exactly what you want to do, so in seconds, Henry is heading towards the hotel where Alex is staying. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex is sitting there at the bar looking like a fallen angel. He’s by himself with an empty whiskey glass in front of him. He watches as Alex keeps glancing at his phone as if debating texting someone or waiting for a response. He takes in a deep breath before he walks over to the bar.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll have a gin and tonic, thanks,” and takes the seat next to Alex. “You looked rather tragic drinking along.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex’s face demonstrates complete shock before breaking into a small smile at his presence. “You’re- what are you doing here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know, as the figurehead of one of the most powerful countries in the world, I do manage to keep abreast on international politics.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, Henry’s nervous. Maybe Alex hadn’t wanted him here after all. After all, there was a ton of press surrounding the area. Or maybe this was too clingy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex raises an eyebrow at him in response. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I sent Pez home without me because I was worried.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There it is.” Alex winks at him. He stops to take a drink from his glass before commanding, “Speak not the bastard’s name.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cheers,” Henry replies unenthusiastically. He takes a sip before sucking the lime off of his fingers. Maybe it was a little intentional, but he looks back to Alex and is met with a look of pure want. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Get moving on that drink, Wales. I’ve got a king sized bed up there that’s calling my name.” Alex moves and hits one knee against Henry’s. It sends a jolt through him that makes him want to chug the whole thing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He finishes it quickly while keeping up a conversation about different types of gins. To anyone else, he hopes this just looks like a friendly encounter between the two. All falsities are thrown aside when they near Alex’s room and Henry starts tugging him by the belt loop. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Although he very much wants to kiss Alex, he did come here first out of concern. Before progressing anything further he can’t help but ask, “Are you sure you don’t want to talk  about it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex groans. This only confirms to Henry that he does.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He waits before Alex vents, “It’s. . . He was supposed to be me in twenty years, you know? I was fifteen the first time I met him, and I was in awe. He was everything I wanted to be. And he cared about people, and about doing the work because it was the right thing to do, because we were making people’s lives better.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex moves to sit on the edge of his bed and Henry follows him over. “I’ve never been more sure that I wanted to go into politics than when I went to Denver. I saw this young, queer guy who looked like me, sleeping at his desk because he wants kids at public schools in his state to have free lunches, and I was like, I could do this. I honestly don’t know if I’m good enough or smart enough to ever be either of my parents. But I could be that. And now I’m sitting here thinking that son of a bitch sold out, so maybe it’s all bullshit and maybe I really am just a naive kid who believes in magical shit that doesn’t happen in real life.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Someone else’s choice doesn’t change who you are.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s true for Henry and true for Alex too. It’s something Bea tells him all the time whenever Phillip or grandmother criticizes him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I feel like it does. I wanted to believe in some people being good and doing this job because they want to do good. Doing the right things most of the time and most things for the right reasons. I wanted to be the kind of person who believes that.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This all makes Henry wish he could be completely honest with Alex. He wanted to tell Alex that he was the most wonderful person in the entire world. How Henry could easily see him fighting for others. Henry could tell how much Alex cared. He wished he could tell Alex how special he was and how Henry knew without a doubt that Alex would change the world.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry moves his hands towards Alex’s shoulders before brushing his neck and jaw too. He looks at Alex and says, “You still are. Because you still bloody care so much.” He kisses Alex’s curls before continuing, “And you are good. Most things are awful most of the time, but you’re good.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry moves him onto the bed and kisses him. He wants to worship Alex tonight and prove to him how good he is. He’s already improved Henry’s world so much there’s no telling how much he could do for everyone else. He spends the rest of the night gently kissing him and reminding him, “You are good.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There were many things he wanted to tell Alex. To show him. He wants to kiss him until he loses his breath, to trail his fingers down his spine and listen to Alex letting out a shuddering breath, get lost in the rigid and sharp corners of Alex’s mouth. There were so, so many things he wanted to do to him, to do with him. He wanted to say the things that Alex made him feel; he wants to tell him about how Alex is the first thought when he wakes and the last before he sleeps. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wants...he wants this. He wants this forever. He knows he has to hide behind closed doors and friendly smiles, but he doesn’t want to. His chest thunders like a racket when the thought of Alex runs through his head. Only him. Only you, only you, only you, he wants to say. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But even if he felt that their time was infinite through the seconds, minutes, hours that had a time limit, he knew that was far from the truth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sometimes, if not always, reality hit him like a ton of bricks: at some point, he’d have to end this relationship, and that wasn't the fairytale endings you read as a child in fables. Those stories parents told their children of princes, princesses, the big, bad wolf, and the evil stepmother, and how things would click into place - the so-called happy endings that sounded like a foreign tale. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In truth, the reality is not as pretty and posed as stories were made out to be. It’s all talk about the perfect endings, the harsh beginnings and the journey that’s filled with rockiness. Something that made it seem black and white. The universe, as Henry discovered, is a multitude of shades and colours that not even Henry fully understands. But what he knows is that life doesn’t always give you the happy ending you desperately crave, or do you get the fabricated fairytale you sought out and believe you deserved. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But sadly, life doesn’t work like that. Henry’s life didn’t work like that. He just supposed he better salvage the threads of this relationship as long as he can. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then, the sound of the door pounding breaks Henry out of his reverie. He doesn’t know who it is. But Alex seems to, due to the tension of his shoulders, and the curse muttered under his breath. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alex Claremont Diaz, it is almost seven,” someone shouts through the door. The voice sounded like Zahra, the deputy chief for Alex’s mum. “You have a strategy meeting in fifteen minutes and I have a key, so I don’t care how naked you are, if you don’t answer this door in the next thirty seconds, I’m coming in.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry is naked and pressed against Alex’s back, who is also very naked, and cursing in undertone. Nothing of particular eloquence comes out of his mouth, except some sort of gibberish that probably wouldn’t convince Zahra - or shield her away from the truth that would be right in front of her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Goddammit ass fucker.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What,” Henry says flatly to the ceiling, staring at it nonchalantly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can hear you in there, Alex, I swear to God -” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Another sound from the door that sounds awfully like Zahra had kicked, and Henry scrambles clumsily out of bed immediately. He could hear the thunderous roar of his heartbeat, his eyes moving helplessly around the room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jesus tits,” Alex says as he pulls his pants up. He snatches a pair of boxers and a shirt from the floor,  shoves them at Henry’s chest and motions towards the closet. “Get in there.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Quite.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, we can unpack the ironic symbolism later. Go,” Alex returns, looking like he was biting back an exasperated sigh, and Henry quickly complies and shoves himself in the closet as quickly and quietly as he can muster. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s a bang and he hears the sound of shuffling behind the closet door. Henry keeps his breathing to a bare minimum, running his fingers through his unkempt, dishevelled hair that probably looked a bit static. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who is she?” Zahra demands. He hears the movement of feet and the silence resonating through the room, before she continues, “you let her bring a phone in here?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nobody, Jesus,” Alex says, without so much as a skip of a beat. Except the small crack in the middle of his response. “What? I got kinda drunk last night, that’s all. It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>chill</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, it is so very, very chill that you’re going to be hungover for today.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine,” Alex says. “It’s fine.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then, Henry loses his balance in the closet, and without meaning to and without any sort of agility or precision, he tumbles out of the closet. Literally. But he really didn’t mean to - accidentally - come out to Zahra this way. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well, there were no others words for this, except: fuck my life. This time not so much in the figurative sense. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Er,” Henry says, pulling up Alex’s boxers to his hips. He blinks at Zahra. Twice. He is keenly aware that this is the probably the worst way he’s ever greeted someone. “Hello.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The silence is nauseating. Zahra looks between Alex and Henry. And after deciding two blank stares isn’t enough, she goes for a third, before pinching the bridge of her nose and voicing her thoughts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I -” Zahra stops her stares short, and shakes her head. “Do I even want you to explain what the fuck is happening here? Literally how is he even here, like, physically and geographically, and why - no, nope. Don’t answer that. Don’t tell me anything.” She takes a sip of coffee and shakes her head again. “Oh my God, did I do this? I never thought...when I set this up...oh my </span>
  <em>
    <span>God</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At this point, Henry has risen up from the floor and shoved a shirt on, and could feel flames rising against his cheeks. “I think, perhaps, if it helps. It was rather inevitable. At least for me. So you shouldn’t blame yourself.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I hope it was fun, because if anyone finds out about this, we’re all fucked,” Zahra says. She points a slender finger at Henry. “You too. Can I assume I don't have to make you sign the NDA?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve already signed one for him,” Alex pipes up. “I think that covers it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, wonderful,” Zahra says, “I’m glad you thought this through. Great. How long has this been happening?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Since, um. New year’s,” Alex says.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“New year’s?” Zahra repeats, looking like she’s about to have an aneurysm. “This has been going on for seven months. That’s why you - Oh my God, I thought you were getting into international relations or something.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I mean, technically -” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you finish that sentence, I’m going to spend tonight in jail.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex winces. “Please don’t tell mom.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Seriously?” The sharpness in her voice almost gives Henry whiplash. “You’re literally putting your dick in the leader of a foreign state, who is a man, at the biggest political event before the election, in a hotel full of reporters, in a city full of cameras, in a race close enough to fuck like manifestation ofr my fucking stress dreams, and you’re asking me not to tell the president about it?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This time, it’s Henry who winced. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Um. Yeah? I haven't, um, come out to her. Yet.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zahra presses her lips in a harsh line, a sigh of exasperation tumbling out of her mouth. “Listen,” she says. “We don’t have time to deal with this, and your morhter has enough to manage without having to process her son’s fucking quarter life NATO sexuality crisis, so - I won’t tell her. But once this conversation is over, you have to.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Alex says after taking a sharp exhale. “Would it make any difference at all if I told you not to see him again.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry sits at the corner of the bed, half in terror, rumpled and nauseated. The feeling of red and blue sits at the pit of his stomach, and dances. But he had expected it. Not so much of Zahra storming into Alex’s hotel room, and Henry falling out of the closet, But this - the consequences.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His grandmother’s voice in his head, didn’t help either.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“God fucking dammit,” she mutters, rubbing the heel of her hand against her forehead.  Everytime I see you, it takes another year off my life. I’m going downstairs, and you better be dressed and there in five minutes so we can try and save this goddamn campaign. And you” - she turns to Henry - “you need to get to fucking England now, and if anyone sees you leave, I will personally end you. Ask me if I’m afraid of the crown.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a scathing look, and a bite that is definitely more than tight promises kept under the knife she wielded as a tongue, Henry felt terror gliding against his bones. Like the motion of cold, shallow water, except he was at the deep end, and he was getting swallowed by the heavy abyss. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Duly noted,” he mutters back faintly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zahra passes him a final glare, turns on her heel, and stalks out of the room, slamming the door behind her. And left a feeling of terror and dread in her wake. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The last few days have been something. If he were somebody else, he might have said it has been something short of interesting. But he is not. He’s Henry, Princes of Wales, that shakes buildings with his boring title. He doesn’t mean to sound like a conceited, arrogant prick - which is highly likely of what he comes across as – he just knows this is the truth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The truth is a flimsy, volatile thing that plasters against you like a second skin, swallowing you whole remorselessly. It paints you blue and red, sending a streak of violet into the crack between your hollow bones. He hates it: the truth. And he just exposes a part of himself to Zahra, and now, after this, he has no idea what he and Alex would be.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he said before, he knows that this wasn’t meant to last. The media paints a pretty picture of the crown, for the world to view, which they do with magnifying glasses and ready, aim and fire when they realise the royals weren’t as pristine and perfect as it seems.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So yes, the point stands. Henry doesn’t know why he’s upset. It feels almost stupid to feel upset. Especially since he knew this would happen. He knows this. He expected it. So, why does it hurt so much? He asks himself. Why does the thought of Alex becoming nothing to him, and going back to being strangers, hurt so much – even when he was expecting this?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The answer lies deep beneath Henry’s mind. He knows the answer, deep down. He just doesn’t really know how he should deal with it. The answer is equally complex as it is simple: Henry is in love with Alex. The answer skitters to the back of his head and ghosts his forearms as indelicate as it could possibly muster. It’s a vivid wash of colours that paints Henry in bubble-gum blue that stretches out as wide as the ocean, bleeds with velvet red, and rosary pink.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Those colours resemble his feelings for Alex – when he sees him, and the first time he realised he was enamoured with him. It seems fitting that he would feel the same – except that it was more potent – when he came to the realisation that he was so in love with Alex, he couldn’t come up with words to describe the feeling.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The only thing he could come close to describing it, is this:                           </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Falling. Eating something sweet for the first time. Drinking a cool glass of water. Feeling painted in colour: like he’s being seen for the first time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But, all his worries begin to fade when he receives an email from Alex. All the knots formed across his chest start to unknot and loosen, and he lets out a small smile that bleeds with nothing but sincerity.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>(And don’t even get him started on Alex losing his job thing. Even thinking about it wrecks him, filling him with melancholy dread.)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But in the end, after a long exchange of emails that leaves a trail of desire under his skin, butterflies flutter inside the pit of his belly.  The sun dances all the way down to his bones, glimmering and glistening, burning brighter than anything he has ever seen; and then his mind flickers to Alex, before sleep overtook him, once more.  </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Step 14: Texas, meeting your crush's dad, and a cliffhanger</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>He remembers their last conversation so vividly in his head. About History, Hamilton, and not-so straight things, (obviously) and the unfurling of Henry’s mind (Christ, he’s still unsure how he managed to articulate words because sometimes, he felt very incoherent when he was  in the vicinity as Alex.) Alex’s assurance of where they stood – though, of course, Henry would be understanding if he were to ever change his mind – and of course, Alex inviting him to Texas.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It leaves room for thought during the ride to plane ride and drive to Texas.  He doesn’t mind the journey much. It's filled with rickety corners, bumps, fluffy clouds that make him feel at ease, the grey winding motorway and too-green road signs, and the secret service members that were sworn to protect him and ensure his safety, but he doesn’t mind them too much. He’s rather used to them anyways. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shortly after landing, he’s greeted by Alex, June, and Nora in a Jeep with the doors off blasting Dolly Parton. It’s so different from the lavish travel he’s done with Alex and the girls but makes him smile at the sight. He worries about being a bit too dressed up until he’s smothered in a hug by June and Nora. “Yes, hello, hello. It’s good to see you too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He tries not to rush it because he really only wants Alex in his arms. Thankfully, within seconds, Alex is up against him once again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In Alex’s ear, he privately greets him with, “Hi love.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For some reason it feels different. Alex laughs breathlessly and Henry feels something inside him warm. Looking at how free Alex looks, Henry can’t help but think how wonderful Alex is. He’s so in love with this man and can’t believe how lucky he is that he gets to be with him like this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>June and Nora give Henry the front seat next to Alex. He climbs him and struggles the whole drive not to stare openly at Alex with a huge smile on his face. He’s handed a bottle of Mexican Coke and his mouth explodes with flavor. Alex smiles in approval at Henry’s reaction before reaching over to hold Henry’s hand for the rest of the drive.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They joke about politics and history. Henry enjoys hearing the girls tease Alex over things from his childhood. Before Henry realizes it, they’re pulling into a driveway covered by trees. A beautiful house comes into sight as they drive. All the windows are open and inviting them home.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once again, Henry has to question - is this still just a friends thing for Alex? He’s here in Alex’s favorite place. About to meet his father. Spending the weekend with his family. All of this screamed it was heading a little too much in the boyfriend direction, but he just tried to ignore it. It was stupid to hope it could be more when in reality, it would end everything.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All he can do when Oscar comes out is attempt a confident smile and shake the man’s hand. He’s definitely feeling like he overdid it with the Burbury travel bag, but it was too late now. “Hello, good to meet you. I’m Henry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oscar responds by slapping his hand to Henry’s, “Hope you’re ready to fucking party.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The response is so Alex it makes Henry laugh, “I wasn’t going to put it like that but yeah.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex and Oscar get to talking about Raf so Henry leaves them for a moment to sit with the girls. He watches as Alex tenses up while the two of them speak. Henry doesn’t realize he’s frowning and staring at Alex until June calls his name a few times. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You ok?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Henry says, nodding, which doesn’t seem to convince June. “It’s just - I’ve never done something like these before. It’s.. nice.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And he’s not lying about it, either. The closest thing he came to a nice family dinner was those galas they attended from time to time, where they drank champagne, spoke to Governors and rich socialites. Coming to Texas, meeting Alex’s dad and the rest of his family, and feeling included in a little more of his life, and finding himself becoming a part of his family too - one could only dream it could be a forever thing - was nice. Maybe even a little more than nice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>June only smiles. There’s no teeth and it’s all pink from the pink lip balm that glimmers in the sweltering heat, but Henry can detect the warmth that radiates from it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, get used to it, Henry,” she bumps her shoulder against his. “You’re our family too. You’re one of us now.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>June and Nora pull Henry towards the lake so they can start to show him around while they wait for Alex to rejoin them. Even though the place is lovely, Henry can’t stop thinking about Alex and it’s utterly distracting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s thinking of how similar Alex and his father look. He’s dying to know how Alex is currently explaining to his dad why the Prince of England is joining him on vacation. Mostly, he wishes he could introduce his father to Alex. He hopes his dad would’ve approved. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A pang of grief runs through Henry. Another thing he realized he had lost - being able to introduce his father to the man he loves. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Soon enough, Alex collected them for dinner and shook Henry from these thoughts. It seemed that Oscar had prepared barbecue for tonight’s dinner. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry must’ve been eyeing the plate with unease because Alex gets his attention and demonstrates how to properly eat it. Cautiously, Henry picked up the first rib and took a bite. He felt the sauce smear on his face but couldn’t help but grin at Alex afterwards.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After dinner, they sat around on the porch and June plucked away at a guitar. They stayed out there for hours. Alex curls up into Henry’s side and he puts his arm around Alex in return. It’s a moment of perfect happiness that Henry will never forget. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>__________________________________________</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry wakes up to Alex tripping on one of Henry’s bathing suits as he’s getting out of bed.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hears Alex moving around until he leaves the bedroom. Henry lays lazily in the bed a few moments longer just wondering how he got so lucky. Last night was easily one of the best nights of his life. This whole weekend would probably be his peak. This insight into Alex’s life is so precious. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He feels so honored Alex would invite him here - to his most treasured place. He imagined what it would be like if he could take Alex to his. He wished he could take Alex back to London with him and show him the V&amp;A at night. To point out everything he cherishes about it to the man he loves. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sometime after waking from this day dream, Henry walks into the kitchen surprised with a breakfast spread Alex made for them. The sight of Alex in his boxers expertly flipping pancakes while wearing an apron is too much to take in this early in the morning. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is that an apron?”, he asks to announce his arrival. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Morning, sweetheart,” Alex replies with a grin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry can’t help but grin. Alex is never like this in the mornings that they’ve spent together and because Henry wants to tease him says, “Sorry, I was looking for someone else. Handsome, petulant, short, not pleasant until after 10 am? Have you seen him?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck off, five nine is average.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry laughs and walks over to peck Alex on the cheek. It’s so domestic and lovely Henry wants to die of happiness and it’s only 9:00 am.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quietly Henry teases, “Love, you and I both know you’re rounding up.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex pulls him into a kiss and huffs in surprise. He’s not complaining though - he could gladly wake up to this every day. He almost forgets about what he interrupted until he smells something begin to burn. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’re eventually interrupted by Nora and June who can’t help but comment on the kitchen make out session. The group satisfies their hangovers with Alex’s breakfast feast before going onto a boat. Henry makes conversation with Oscar about sailboats. They jump in and go swimming. Conversation floats from random topics before always ending in political debates. Henry takes a photo with June and Nora. More songs are played on the guitar. Pez responds dramatically to Henry’s text of the picture with him, June, and Nora. The whole afternoon is so perfect it could be a dream. He’d do this everyday of his life if he could. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The day passes entirely too fast and all Henry can think about is Alex. How could he think about anything else though? He’s in Alex’s favorite place in the world. This weekend really ingrained how far Henry has fallen. Without a doubt, he knows he loves Alex with everything he has. Even if those feelings aren’t returned, he’d do anything to keep this wonderful person in his life. Everything is brighter with Alex. Henry knows about Liam and simply can’t see how anyone would give Alex up. Even if keeping his feelings a secret pains him, there’s never going to be anyone else. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry thinks about the future they could have if they were just two normal guys. They could get a house together, vacation together all the time, go on public dates, and everyone would know who they really belong to. They could wake up to each other every day. Henry would make Alex coffee and tea for himself. Alex would come home stressed about work everyday and Henry would kiss away his worries. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“H, you awake?” pulls him from thoughts of domestic bliss. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Always,” Henry sighs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex gets up and wanders down towards the docks. When they reach the end, Alex strips off all of his clothes before jumping in. He waits for Alex to pop back up before telling him, “You’re a menace.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He waits a moment before stripping off his own clothes. He’s staring down at Alex just taking in the sight. His features illuminated by moonlight are so beautiful. He shivers when he notices Alex’s intense stare and dives into the water. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he resurfaces, Alex splashes him and says, “Can’t you ever just do one thing without having to be so goddam extra about it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s bloody rich coming from you,” Henry retorts. It’s honestly so ironic coming from Alex: a man who called Henry at 3:00 am to talk about the caged turkeys terrorizing him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Alex replies while kicking over to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry begins to move before Alex reaches him. It causes them to chase each other around in the water and giggle like idiots. At one point, Alex manages to catch Henry around the waist and pin him against the pier. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their faces are so close, but instead of kissing him, Alex is studying the freckles on Henry’s face. “Hey,” Alex whispers to him to break the silence.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi” Henry gives Alex a soft smile. All he wants is to stay here forever with Alex. He’s going to dream about moments like this all the time while they’re apart. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You look good out here.” Something about the way Alex says it makes Henry pause. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. I’m glad you came this weekend. It’s been so intense lately. I really needed this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry can hear the emotion filling Alex’s voice. It’s almost as if he’s told Henry that he just really needed him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You carry too much,” Henry jabs at him in an attempt to lighten the mood. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He expects Alex to respond by denying it but instead he says, “I know. You know what I’m thinking about right now?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry doesn’t have a clue, but he’d give up almost anything to find out. All he’s been wanting to know for years are Alex’s thoughts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m thinking about after inauguration like next year, taking you back here, just the two of us. And we can sit under the moon and not stress about anything.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Does Alex really want this a year from now? Henry knows he does, but won’t Alex get bored of him? Won’t he soon realize Henry isn’t what he wants. As much as he wants this, he can’t get his hopes up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh. That sounds nice, if unlikely.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come on, think about it babe. Next year, My mom’ll be in office again and we won’t have to worry about winning any more elections. I’ll finally be able to breath. Ugh, it’ll be amazing. I’ll cook migas in the mornings and we’ll swim all day and never put our clothes on and make out on the pier and it won’t even matter if the neighbors see.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The last bit makes Henry pause. It will always matter who knows about him and Alex. He’s filled with dread at having to deny going public with Alex. He never thought he’d have to. He thought this was just friends with benefits for Alex, but here he is talking about a vacation next year with just them. It sounds like Henry’s fantasies and that’s how he knows this is dangerous. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, it will matter, you know. It will always matter.” He tries to keep his emotions in check. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know what I mean.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry’s not sure if he wants Alex to admit he loves him or not. He’s almost certain Alex is attempting to explain his feelings, but should Henry let him? If Alex admits he loves him, it’ll kill Henry to end it. Or when Alex eventually decides he doesn’t want a secret relationship with the perpetually closeted Prince of England.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where are you going with all this?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“June says I have a fire under my ass for no good reason. I don’t know. You know how they always say to take it one day at a time? I think I take it ten years in the future. Like when I was in high school, it was all: well, my parents hate each other, and my sister is leaving for college, and sometimes I look at other guys in the shower, but if I keep looking directly ahead, that stuff can’t catch up to me. Or if I take this class, or this internship, or this job. I used to think, if I pictured the person I wanted to be and took all the crazy anxiety in my brain and narrowed it down to that point, I could require it. Use it to power something else. It’s like I never learned how to just be where I am.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex pauses for a moment and Henry can feel his heart beating rapidly. This whole scene is reading straight out of a Jane Austen novel and Henry feels anxiety over what’s about to be said next.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And where I am is here. With you. And I’m thinking maybe I should start trying to take it day by day. And just feel what I feel.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sweetheart,” Henry says. He tries to push so much emotion and love into that one word. He wants Alex to know how much he wants to just be here with him. How much he wishes he could always be with him. Alex cups Henry’s face and pulls him in slightly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Henry, I-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Afraid of what he’d say next, Henry slips out and goes underwater. It’s so cruel to both of them, but he can’t hear the words that will damn them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he comes back up, he spits out water and Alex forces a laugh. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Christ, what are all these infernal creatures?” He slaps a bug away and avoids moving closer to Alex.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mosquitoes,” Alex offers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They’re awful. I’m going to catch an exotic plague.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry knows how terrible he’s being. He knows Alex just poured his feelings out to him and now he’s talking about </span>
  <em>
    <span>bugs</span>
  </em>
  <span> of all things. He’s self loathing is at an all time high.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry?” He hates how unsure Alex sounds. How almost hurt and confused he sounds.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I just mean to say, you know, Philip is the heir and I’m the spare, and if that nervy bastard has a heart attack at thirty-five and I’ve got malaria, whither the spare?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex attempts a laugh again and Henry wants to scream. He more than anything wants to tell Alex that he loves him, but instead, he forces himself to say, “At any rate, I’m knackered. If it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll go to bed.” He’s pulling himself out of the water before Alex can try to argue. He allows himself one last look at Alex before he starts walking away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex hasn’t followed him yet, and he’s not sure if he wants him to. He’s now faced with this impossible decision - to end things with Alex or try to make things work? He has no idea how he can give up Alex, but also no idea how he can still do his duty as the Prince of England. He’s not supposed to ever have to make this decision. Alex was never supposed to love him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually, Henry is honest with himself. Alex is everything he wants, but he can never have him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He puts himself to bed and turns towards the wall so that even when Alex does come back, he won’t have to see him. Seeing him again will make it harder to do what Henry realizes he must do now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He has to end things with Alex. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It kills Henry how much of a coward he is. He’s running away from Alex again. It feels much worse than it did on New Years'. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He waits until Alex is asleep before texting the PPOs to tell them they’re leaving. He manages to write Alex a note riddled with lies and disguised as a goodbye.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Alex,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Had to go early for a family matter. Left with the PPOs. Didn’t want to wake you. Thank you for everything. X </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15: the doldrums and an impossible decision</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was the week where he ignores the raging pit in his stomach that causes volcanoes to erupt inside his chest and the erratic chime that his phone makes; another message from Alex. Four from Pez. A few from Bea. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t want to do this. But he has to. He has to cut off his ties with Alex as though Alex was merely just a tight thread - a thread that won’t let him let go - swaying in the sails of the wind. But, he wasn’t. Alex wasn’t something as meaningless and minuscule as that. He was so much more. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was the summer that burned bright inside Henry’s mind, the storm that crashed inside the hollow gaps of his chest, the sharp array of colours that swam in every essence of Henry’s existence. Henry couldn’t imagine not knowing Alex; Alex was far too stuck inside Henry’s veins for him to forget him, but even if he wasn’t, Alex was just one of those people you could never really forget. You would never be able to forget the sound of the violins vibrating against his skin, echoing, singing a sweet symphony that only birds could sing effortlessly to. Or the jut of his jaw, the way you’d get lost inside his eyes for hours, or the easy going nature he had about him, or how he made the sky bloom with colours when you looked at him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Henry supposed that none of that mattered now. He was foolish enough to think that something would come of this. Of course all of this would lead to heartbreak, but he did it anyway, and now there were fragments of his heart that he probably would never be able to find. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe it was the lack of Alex creating a gaping whole in his life or his own burning self loathing, but Henry was quickly falling into a spiral. He could think of nothing that would make this situation better. Everything and anything made Henry think of Alex. It hurt knowing that Alex must be feeling confused and upset now too because he did that. He didn’t want to picture a heartbroken look on Alex’s face. He didn’t want to think of Alex at all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry made a quick trip and raided the kitchen's liquor cabinet. He brought a bottle of scotch back to his room and began to drink. The liquor burning from his throat made the pain temporarily subside. It gave him a distraction from the brown eyed, curly haired boy that was haunting Henry’s thoughts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Somehow, Henry must’ve dozed off. He woke up with the bottle half empty on his nightstand and a full water bottle next to it. He looked over and was confused to see a sweatshirt he’d seen Alex wear before. Had he left it here during one of his visits? Henry brought it up to his face and swore it still smelled like him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, his bedroom door burst open and Henry dropped the sweatshirt feeling like he’d been caught in some scandalous act. He turned to see who the intruder was. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I won’t apologize if your tea is terrible. You know us Americans can’t make tea.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex. Inexplicably, Alex was here. How could he bloody care about tea when Alex was here? Even after Henry had ghosted him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing here, love?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t remember? I knew you were drinking when I got here last night, but I thought we’d worked it all out.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex placed down their breakfast tray and sat on the edge of Henry’s bed. He was frowning now. Henry had done that again. He had to stop making this beautiful boy sad. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry awkwardly laughed. He reached for Alex’s hand before answering, “I guess I drank more than I thought. I’ve missed you so much though. I can’t tell you how happy I am that you’re here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex, ever the cheeky one, “Don’t worry you did last night. Over and over again.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry felt himself blushing. Of course his drunkenness would’ve been overjoyed to see Alex. He probably professed his love to Alex and asked him never to leave.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Care to fill me in then?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex shook his head, “I’d rather do this.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He leaned over and gently kissed Henry. It was a kiss that promised love and devotion. It said “let’s never be apart again”. It filled Henry with such hope they’d work things out in this impossible situation. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He thought he heard Alex say baby and Henry smiled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He pulled back to look at Alex, but when he opened his eyes, it was just hitting sunrise in London. There was no sweatshirt or luggage back in the room. There was no sign of Alex. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just a dream then. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry groaned and checked his phone. No messages from Alex again either. He deserved this really. He had done everything to ensure he’d end up alone and Alex could walk away unscathed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bottle of scotch still sat on his nightstand and when Henry caught a whiff, it made his stomach drop. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe it was the alcohol or the sensation of losing Alex all over again, but he felt overly nauseous and forced himself to run to the bathroom. He made it just in time before dry heaving over the toilet before vomiting a little. He felt tears leak from his eyes. Henry couldn’t even look at himself in the mirror as he tried to wash off his face and brush his teeth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wondered how much time he’d be allowed to mope before he was forced into his next public appearance. Maybe the sight of him looking like a total disaster would postpone it for a few weeks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The cruelty of his dream with Alex made Henry do whatever he could to stay awake. Even though sleep never came easy, he would do whatever he could to prevent his mind from fantasizing like that again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry spent the rest of the day attempting to nurse his hangover. He had turned on the six hour Pride and Prejudice BBC edition until Elizabeth ran away to return home. It was a painful reminder of what he had done to Alex. Even though things improved for Elizabeth and Darcy, Henry forced himself to turn it off. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He switched to watching reruns of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Bake Off</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It was mind numbing, but effective. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>David sat with Henry all day and kept whimpering. Henry knew he probably wanted to go for a long walk since it had been a few days, but he just didn’t have the energy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At some point, Bea stopped by to try to make him come to the music room with her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He simply had told her, “Ugh, no” and refused to move until she gave up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After she left, he realized “ugh, no” was how he felt about everything at the moment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Really, what was there to look forward to now? He had lost Alex before they’d even really talked about their feelings. Nothing was even real between them. Even Alex had said they were just friends plus blowjobs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex would probably be annoyed about this whole thing, but he would move on eventually. Henry hated that he knew about what had happened between Liam and Alex and still chose to ghost him anyways. He knew he was a coward, but at the end of the day, Alex would move on and he would be fine. He’d find someone else, fall in love, and continue his career in politics. Maybe he’d even get his campaign job back. This was better for Alex.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That’s all Henry wanted anyways - whatever is the best for Alex.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At least there were no other events coming up. There were no excuses for them to see each other. Henry could avoid Alex for another few years maybe.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was for the best.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All of the sudden, Henry heard shouts just outside his window. He’s hoping security can just take care of whatever it is and no one has to bother him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What would he even do anyways? Henry was in no shape to do anything at the moment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With the window open in his adjoining room, he thinks he hears his name being shouted. Henry tries to ignore it, figuring it’s just some reporter who slipped through somehow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s resigned himself to ignoring it just when he hears, “Henry, you motherfucker!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Only one person would show up and shout such things at the palace. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shouldn’t check, but he does. Something pulls him over to the window and there he is. Alex is standing there in the rain with Shaan and Cash. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Henry, you piece of shit, get your ass down here!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He can’t make out what comes next, but shortly after he hears, “Henry! Your Royal fucking Highness!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry knows things are about to get messy. He rushes down the stairs desperate to make it stop before grandmother gets involved and makes it so much worse. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shaan is radioing someone just as Henry makes it to the door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“For Christ’s sake, Alex, what are you doing?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry does his best to remain stoic. He puts on a brave face as he watches Alex freeze. Probably one of the only times Henry has seen him at a loss for words. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tell him to let me in,” Alex says calmly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shouldn’t, but when has he ever refused Alex anything?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He pinches his nose and tells them it's fine. Henry waits until he’s close enough to the door and takes off for the stairs. He will let Alex say whatever he needs to and then Henry will tell him to go. That’s what has to happen. Henry won’t survive it going further than that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex yells after him the entire way to his room, “Really nice. Fuckin’ ghost me for a week, make me stand in the rain like a brown John Cusack, and now you won’t even talk to me. I’m just really having a great time here. I can see why all y’all had to marry your fucking cousins.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry’s internally screaming. Doesn’t Alex know that for once, this has nothing to do with him? Can’t he see that Royalty aren’t free? And why on earth does he feel the need to say things that in previous monarchies would’ve lead to certain torture?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’d rather not do this where we might be overheard,” Henry manages to get out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They finally reach his room and Henry opens it for them. Alex continues stomping behind him, “Do what? What are you gonna do, Henry?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As soon as he hears the door closes, he turns. He knows Alex must be taking in how much of a disaster Henry looks. How tired he is, how depressed he is, and just how weak he is. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It takes everything in him to say, “I’m going to let you say what you need to say, so you can leave.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There. He told Alex to go. The hard part is over.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex stares at him. Henry can read confusion and anger flit across his expression before he responds, “What, and then we’re over?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry can’t bring himself to confirm it. If he does, he’s going to break down. He’ll beg Alex not to leave him. One look at Alex tells him he feels similarly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Seriously? What the fuck is going on? A week ago it was emails about how much you missed me and meeting my fucking dad, and that’s it? You thought you could fucking ghost me? I can’t shut this off like you do, Henry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He moves over to the fireplace to put some distance between them. He hears the hurt in Alex’s voice and it kills Henry knowing it’s because of him. That he has the power to fix it, but in reality, no power to do anything to save them from the impossibility of their relationship. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You think I don’t care as much as you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re sure as hell acting like it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry huffs out a laugh and shakes his head, “I haven’t even got the time to explain to you all the ways you’re wrong-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jesus, could you stop  being an obtuse fucking asshole for, like, twenty seconds?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So glad you flew all the way here to insult me-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I fucking love you, okay?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Alex yells at him. It stills Henry hearing this. He’s leaning against the mantle for support and not looking at Alex. Now that Alex has said this, he’s left with the impossible choice he never wanted to make.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Does he want the life of danger and adventure with Alex? A life that would be filled with criticism and possibly being estranged from his family? Or does he want the life he had before? The safety of living under the crown’s protection. The comfort of being a member of one of the most beloved Royal families. Of fulfilling the duty to the crown and country. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In a perfect world, Henry would’ve had it all. He would have his parents sitting on the throne, Alex by his side, and no other worries in the world. He’d have the freedom and support to love this American boy publicly. He could’ve written novels instead of undergoing a career in the military.  It would’ve been epic.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, I swear. You don’t make it fucking easy, but I’m in love with you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, the ring feels like it’s burning his finger so Henry takes off his singlet and drops it against the mantle. He pulls his hand and cradles it against his chest. “Do you have any idea what that means?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course I do-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex is always so idealistic. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alex, please.” He turns towards the American for the first time since his confession. He lets Alex know how utterly miserable and wrecked he is. “Don’t. This is the entire goddamn reason. I can’t do this, and you know why I can’t do this, so please don’t make me say it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry knows he’s a coward, but he needs Alex to leave. He can’t say it though. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s challenged with the question, “You’re not even gonna try to be happy?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s so goddamn frustrated by all of this. Henry can never be happy. It’s clearly not in the cards and hasn’t been for years. Can’t Alex just leave him alone?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“For Christ’s sake, I’ve been trying to be happy my entire idiot life. My birthright is a country, not happiness.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex is swiftly pulling something out of his pocket and throws it at Henry. The wad of paper reaches the floor near him, but clearly Alex wants him to see it. He reaches for it and hears Alex ask, “Then what is that supposed to mean, if you don’t want this?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His own handwriting is staring up at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dear Thisbe,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I wish there weren't a wall.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Love, Pyramus</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He remembers writing this for Alex to find one day. He was never sure until this moment that Alex would ever find it. All he wanted Alex to know was that he wished things were different. He wanted to be with Alex more than anything, but this wall was impenetrable. That their love story would be as tragic as the legend he referenced. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alex, Thisbe and Pyramus both die at the end.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex groans in response, “Oh my god! So what, was this all never going to be anything real to you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The implication that Henry never cared cuts him to the core. After all, it was him who made the first move. It was Henry who had loved Alex in secret for years.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You really are a complete idiot if you believe that.” He tightens his fist around the note. It gives him a sense of power as he continues, “When have I ever since the first instant I touched you, pretended to be anything less than in love with you? Are you do self absorbed as to think this is about you or whether or not I love you, rather than the fact that I’m an heir to the fucking throne? You at least have the option to not choose a public life eventually, but I will live and die in these palaces and in this family, so don’t you dare come to me and question if I love you when it’s the thing that could bloody well ruin everything.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry returns to staring at the mantle and tugs on his hair in frustration. Alex is silent for once, not even breathing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His voice breaks but he confesses to Alex, “It was never supposed to be an issue. I thought I could have some part of you, and just never say it, and you’d never have to know, and one day you’d get tired of me and leave, because I’m-” He gestures to himself and struggles to find words to explain this. “I never thought I’d be stood here faced with a choice I can’t make, because I never. . . I never imagined that you would love me back.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I do. And you can choose.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know bloody well I can’t.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex begs him, “You can try. What do you want?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I want you-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then fucking have me!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But I don’t want this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex’s expression turns dark. “What does that even mean?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want it!” Henry shouts at him. “Don’t you bloody see? I’m not like you. I can’t afford to be reckless. I don’t have a family who will support me. I don’t go about shoving who I am in everyone’s faces and dreaming about a career in politics, so I can be more scrutinized and picked apart by the entire godforsaken world. I can love you and want you and still not want that life. I’m allowed, all right, and it doesn’t make me a liar; it makes me a man with some infinitesimal shred of self-preservation, unlike you, and you don’t get to come here and call me a coward for it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex breathes deeply. “I never said you were a coward.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry’s a bit shocked. Alex technically never did. Those were Henry’s words. “I, well, the point still stands.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You think I want your life? You think I want Martha’s? Gilded fucking cage? Barely allowed to speak in public or have a goddamn opinion-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Is he really rubbing it in?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then what are we even doing here? Why are we fighting, then, if the lives we have to lead are so incompatible? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Because you don’t want that either!” Alex exclaims. “You don’t want any of this bullshit, you hate it.” It sounds like Alex is ready to come shake Henry; make him come to his senses. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t tell me what I want. You haven’t a clue how it feels.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Look,” Alex says before crossing the room to him. “I might not be a fucking royal, but I know what it’s like for your whole life to be determined by the family you were born into, okay? The lives we want-they’re not that different. Not in the ways that matter. You want to take what you were given and leave the world a better place than you found it. So do I. We can - we can figure out a way to do that together.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think I can.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex turns away from him looking as if Henry had slapped him. Henry hates seeing the defeat clear in his expression. Finally, Alex says, “Fine, You know what? Fucking fine. I’ll leave.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This is what had to happen. Henry does his best to accept his and mutters, “Good.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll leave,” Alex exclaims. He’s turning away from Henry and all he can do is try to hold on to this last image of Alex. Suddenly, he’s turning back to Henry and challenges him with, “as soon as you tell me to leave.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Henry doesn’t speak, Alex continues, “Tell me you’re done with me. I’ll get back on the plane. That’s it. And you can live here in your tower and be miserable forever, write a whole book of sad fucking poems about it. Whatever. Just say it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If Alex is going to have his heart broken, he’s really making Henry go all the way. There’s no cowardly way out of this. There’s no more being passive and hiding. Alex is forcing Henry to make a claim for what he wants the most. He knows what he should pick. Or what he’s been told to pick at least, but something in Henry won’t give Alex up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knows that if he ends things with Alex right now, there’s no coming back from it. Any traces of happiness will cease to exist. He would choose a fake life over this one with someone he loves. He would choose to honor his grandmother’s wishes over his own heart. Giving up Alex means sacrificing everything that Henry is.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck you,” Henry says with his voice breaking. He can’t help himself as he grabs Alex’s shirt to anchor himself. He needs all the strength and courage Alex can lend him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tell me to leave,” Alex responds with a slight smile. Henry can see the hope in Alex’s expression as he hasn’t been kicked out yet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Still unsure how to pick, Henry gives Alex a kiss with everything he has left. It’s full of emotion that Henry can’t even describe. He feels desperate to convey his feelings to Alex. If this is the last time, he wants to soak up whatever he can from Alex. Some part of his mind realizes that kissing Alex is pushing him over the edge. There’s no return from a kiss so consuming. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry begins to direct Alex towards the bed without breaking away from him. Once they make it to the bed, Henry wipes his eyes and is surprised to see the tears forming there. Alex looks at him with so much concern that Henry feels himself break a little further. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“C’mere,” Alex whispers to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After he’s pulled into Alex’s arms, they begin to make love. It’s completely different than any other time before. It’s slow and deep. If this is goodbye, Alex is making sure it lasts. Knowing Alex loves him makes every touch and kiss even more epic. All he wants to do is memorize every detail of Alex - everything from his eyelashes to his collar bones to the curve of his low back. If this is goodbye, Henry will need to keep this close to his heart if he is to survive. </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Step 16: a national gay landmark and also a statue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Still unsure of what to do, Henry is relieved to wake up before Alex. He needs to distance himself from the beautiful American boy in his bed if he’s to make any sort of decision. If he stays there, he will never make himself let Alex go. Letting him go would be like agreeing to live in the dark forever. Henry knows this, but at the same time, a life with Alex could be like playing with fire. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry dresses in some athletic clothes before taking a run around the grounds of Kensington Palace. He needs fresh air and a clear mind to think through this. His thoughts flip back constantly about what each decision would cost him. The thought of losing Alex forever though is too scary and he doesn’t let himself dwell on it for long.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he returns inside, he moves through the rooms and studies the palace for inspiration. The gray and dull morning light settles over everything making it feel more like a jail than a home. It’s also a firm and constant reminder of his birthright and duty to this country.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He cuts through the kitchens to the dining room when he comes across Philip eating breakfast. Normally, he tries to avoid his brother whenever possible, but today he’s not so lucky. He’s sitting in one of their dining rooms with tea and a full plate in front of him. He’s impeccably dressed despite the fact that any duties he has won’t begin for at least another hour. Henry must look like a slob in comparison and all he can do is pray that Philip won’t start lecturing him on his appearance on top of everything else.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Philip calls out to him and motions for him to sit. Henry panics for a second thinking he was going to force him to kick Alex out. Maybe lecture him again on how he needs to give up such desires.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, I was wondering if you had any time to discuss some properties later this week. I’ve been studying the land holdings and there are some things I’d rather like to see worked out.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay? Is that it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Philip sips his tea and straightens out his place setting. “Yes, I have research to go over with you then. Martha and I actually have to go meet with a women’s health physician soon.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, is everything alright?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Philip rolls his eyes, “Oh yes, yes. It’s to go over fertility treatments and appropriate diets while she’s pregnant. Guess it’s about what we expected with our grandmother so badly wanting heirs.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, it hits Henry. They’re all just being trapped into the lives set forth by grandmother. She wants them all to accept her opinions as laws. She wants them to give up pieces of themselves to fit this cookie cutter life she has planned for all of them. Henry knows Philip hates children, yet here he is anyways. He knows Bea loves art and music, but she’s prevented from ever performing again. And Henry loves a boy, but she believes it’s wrong. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She all just wants them to live very fine, picture perfect lives. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry stands abruptly. Philip gives him a questioning look, “Are you alright?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh yes. Good luck with that appointment later.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry quickly backtracks to the kitchens. He makes coffee for Alex and tea for himself. He prays that Alex hasn’t left yet. If he does, Henry’s already making plans on how to find him - even if that means flying across the Atlantic to follow him. Seeing Philip like that reinforced what Henry knew in his own heart all along - he could not and would not give up Alex.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He made it back to his rooms and thanked the heavens when he saw Alex still lounging in his bed. He’s trying to hold back a smile in case Alex is still angry with him. He tries to tease, “Your hair in the mornings is truly a wonder to behold.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He kneels next to the bed and offers the mug to Alex. He takes it from Henry cautiously. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Carefully, Alex says, “Hi. You seem. . . less pissy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He laughs a little. He can feel his mood lifting just by being near Alex again, “You’re one to talk. I wasn’t the one who stormed the palace in a fit of pique to call me an obtuse fucking asshole.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“In my defense, you were an obtuse fucking asshole.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry pauses to sip his tea. He notices Alex’s brown eyes studying him intently. Probably trying to guess where Henry is going with all of this. It reminds him Alex is unaware of his decision.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was.” He presses his lips against Alex. Just the small touch is enough to make this dull morning come to life. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex pulls away from him too quickly, “Hey, where were you?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry doesn’t respond. He kicks his wet trainers on the floor before climbing up to sit between Alex’s legs. He stifles a sigh; perhaps one too many that makes his lungs fill up with still water. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I needed a run,” he says. “To clear my head a bit, figure out . . . what’s next. Very Mr. Darcy brooding at Pemberley. And I ran into Philip. I hadn’t mentioned it, but he and Martha are here for the week while they’re doing renovations on Anmer Hall. He was up early for some appearance or other, eating toast. Plain toast. Have you ever seen anyone eat toast without anything on it? Harrowing, truly.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex nibbles on his lip. “What’s going on, babe?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We chatted for a bit. He didn’t seem to know about your...visitation … last night, thankfully. But he was on about Martha, and land holdings, and the hypothetical heirs they have to start working on, even though Philip hates children, and suddenly it was as if...as if everything you said last night came back to me. I thought, God, that’s it, isn’t it? Just following the plan. And it’s not that he’s unhappy. He’s fine. It’s all very deeply fine. A whole lifetime of fine.” Henry pulls at a thread on the duvet, then looks up, and says, “that’s not good enough for me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry watched the hope flood into Alex’s expression. “It’s not?” he asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He reached to touch Alex’s cheek. He searched for the right words for a moment before attempting to explain. “I’m not good at saying these things like you are, but I’ve always thought ever since I knew about me, and even before when I could sense I was different- and after everything the past few years, all the mad things my heart does- I’ve always thought of myself as a problem that deserved to stay hidden. Never quite trusted myself or what I wanted. Before you, I was all right letting everything happen to me. I honestly have never thought I deserved to choose.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex’s expression was so emotional listening to Henry. He wanted to sooth away anything troubling Alex so he reached to touch a curl now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But you treat me like I do.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex places his mug on the nightstand and moves closer to Henry. “You do,” he says quietly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think I’m actually beginning to believe that. And I don’t know how long it would’ve taken if I didn’t have you to believe for me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And there’s nothing wrong with you. I mean aside from the fact that you’re occasionally an obtuse fucking asshole,” Alex tells him. Henry laughs at this. He feels a thousand times lighter than he did waking up this morning.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry about that. I wasn’t ready to hear it. That night, at the lake it was the first time I let myself think you might actually say it. I panicked, and it was daft and unfair, and I won’t do it again,” Henry promises. He made a promise to himself to stop preventing his own happiness. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You better not. So, you’re saying… you’re in?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m saying,” Henry pauses for a moment as he desperately needs to find the right words, “I’m terrified, and my whole life is completely mad, but trying to give you up this week nearly killed me. And when I woke up this morning and looked at you. . . There’s no trying to get by for me anymore. I don’t know if I’ll ever be allowed to tell the world, but I - I want to. One day. If there’s any legacy for me on this bloody earth, I want it to be true. So I can offer you all of me, in whatever way you’ll have me, and I can offer you the chance of a life. If you can wait, I want you to help me try.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s the most true thing Henry has ever confessed. He knows deep down that he could never give this man up. And would it truly be so horrible to be remembered by the world as a man who loved another man this deeply? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex smiles as he responds, “Okay, I’m into making history.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry seals the deal with a kiss. They remain wrapped up together in Henry’s bed for hours. They exchange lazy kisses and cuddle together, just content to enjoy the feeling of being together again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At one point, Alex checks his phone which has an absurd number of missed calls and texts waiting for him from June, Nora, Zahra, and his mother. Alex sends a reply to June and Nora while Henry has Shaan call Zahra to spare Alex from her wrath. He arranges travel plans for Alex and is thrilled when Alex agrees to stay another day.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry watches Alex as he prepares to hear whatever his mother now has to say. Before pressing play, Alex admits, “I don’t think I told you, but she uh, well when she fired me, she told me that if I wasn’t a thousand percent serious about you, I needed to break things off.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His heart wants to burst at hearing this. That Alex wanted him as much as Henry wanted Alex. He leans in to press a kiss behind Alex’s ear, “A thousand percent?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, don’t let it go to your head.” He elbows Alex, which is returned by him aggressively kissing Henry’s cheek. The two of them are laughing, pink faced, and definitely pleased. Henry does bring up a serious concern about Alex’s career plans. He waves it off and tells Henry that he will figure it out later. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re really not frightened of what might happen?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, I mean of course I am. It definitely stays a secret until after the election. And I know it’ll be messy, but if we can get ahead of the narrative, wait for the right time and do it on our own terms, I think it could be okay.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry wonders if Alex is being rash and questions, “How long have you been thinking about this?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Consciously? Since like the DNC. Subconsciously, in total denial? A long ass time. At least since you kissed me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shock courses through him again. How did he miss Alex’s change of heart? How did he convince himself that Alex didn’t care when he’d been thinking of their future all along? “That’s kind of incredible,” Henry tells him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What about you?” Alex asks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What about me? Christ Alex, the whole bloody time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The whole time?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Since the Olympics.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The Olympics?” Alex practically yells at him. He pulls Henry’s pillow out away from him and quickly turns, “But that’s like, that’s like-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes Alex. The day we met, nothing gets past you, does it?” Henry reaches over to steal his pillow back before he teases Alex, “‘What about you’, he says as if he doesn’t know-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shut your mouth,” Alex commands him. He finally stops fighting Henry for the pillow and elects to straddle him instead. Henry is sure his smile matches the grin on Alex’s face before he leans to kiss him again. He rolls onto what must be Alex’s phone because somehow the voicemail plays out, “Diaz, you insane, hopeless romantic little shit, It had better be forever. Be safe.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They eventually sneak out of the palace to explore the surrounding area. Henry thinks they’re blending in right up until Alex shouts, “Stop! Are you kidding me? Prince Consort Roads? Oh my god, take a picture of me with the sign.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry tells him to keep going since he has something even better planned. He shows Alex the key he has as a way to convince him as they finally head up towards the Victoria and Albert Museum. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry greets the guard at the door. He asks if they’re planning on going to Renaissance City and opens the door for them. He can tell Alex is in awe of the museum as they wander through it, but Henry doesn’t want to stop anywhere else tonight.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You do this a lot?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry laughs and admits to Alex, “It’s sort of my little secret. When I was young, my mum and dad would take us early in the morning before opening. They wanted us to have a sense of the arts, I suppose, but mostly history.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He begins telling Alex stories about the pieces and what his parents would say. He feels a twinge of pain as he recalls his memories, but then he looks at Alex and remembers why they came. He grabs Alex’s hand and takes off running.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry stops when they reach the pillars leading up to his favorite spot. He spends some time pointing out different things to Alex. He gets lost in the history and art surrounding him until Alex cuts him off with a kiss. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If that’s Alex’s way of telling him to shut up, he certainly doesn’t mind. He asks, “Hello, what was that for?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I just, like really love you,” Alex responds. It might be the best explanation Henry’s ever heard.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally, they’re reading Henry's intended destination. “This is it,” he points out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He watches the awe spread on Alex’s face. He’s dreamed of taking Alex here since he was invited to the lake house. In this sacred space, Henry is allowed to just be. He doesn’t have to worry about the public taking photos of him or spreading lies. He’s also not surrounded by palace employees and his family trying to dictate his life. He begins to tell Alex as much when Alex asks for him to “tell him everything.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry does just that. He tells Alex more stories about his family and what this place means to him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s a bit ironic you know - me, the cursed gay heir, standing here in Victoria’s museum considering how much she loved those sodomy laws. Actually, you remember how I told you about the gay King James I?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The one with the dumb jock boyfriend?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry goes onto explain that the Church was so displeased with his love affair that the commissioned the King James version of the Bible to appease them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re kidding.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He stood in front of the Privy council and said ‘Christ had John and I have George.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jesus.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Precisely,” Henry responds. He looks up to the statue of Samson. He can feel Alex’s eyes on him, but he’s lost in thinking about those who came before him - perhaps the ones who gave him hope that he might one day be accepted by his family for being gay. “And James’s son, Charles I, is the reason we have dear Samson. It’s the only Giambologna that ever left Florence. He was a gift to Charles from the King of Spain, and Charles gave it, this massive, absolutely priceless masterpiece of a sculpture to Villiers. And a few centuries later, here he is. One of the most beautiful pieces we own and we didn’t even steal it. We only needed Villiers and his trolloping ways with queer monarchs. To me, if there were a registry of national gay landmarks in Britain, Samson would be on it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry’s beaming up at the statute in thought. He wonders what he and Alex could accomplish together if they and when they go public. He wonders if they’ll be able to bring something beautiful to their people like Villiers and Samson.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looks over and watches Alex holding his phone up as if ready to take a picture. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing,” Henry asks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m taking a picture of a national gay landmark. And also a statue,” Alex tells him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry laughs and Alex closes the distance between them. Alex takes off his hat and presses a kiss to his forehead.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s funny. I always thought of the whole thing as the most unforgivable thing about me, but you act like it’s one of the best.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah.  Top list of reasons to love you goes brain, then dick, then imminent status as a revolutionary gay icon.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You are quite literally Queen Victoria’s worst nightmare.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And that’s why you love me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My God, you’re right. All this time, I was just after the bloke who’d most infuriate my homophobic forebears,” Henry teases. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, and we can’t forget they were also racist.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’re still standing together and taking it all in when Henry recalls how this place has always made him feel. He’s always wanted to share the deepest parts of himself with someone he loves here. In this museum where he gets to be himself, he wants to share it with someone. This someone is no longer a faceless, unknown person, but Alex. Alex, who has always stood by his side and supported him. Alex, who doesn’t turn away from Henry when the darkness settles in. Alex, who respects and loves him unconditionally. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“When I was younger, I had this very elaborate idea of taking somebody I loved here and standing inside the chapel, that he’d love as much as I didn, and we’d slow dance right in front of the Blessed Mother. Just a daft pubescent fantasy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry debates for a moment before pulling out his phone. He finds ‘Your Song’ listed under his playlist and begins playing it. He holds out a hand to Alex in an offer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex huffs a laugh out before saying, “Aren’t you gonna ask if I know how to waltz?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No waltzing. Never cared for it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He pulls Alex close and thinks about what a gift this man is. This man who brings light and love into his life constantly. This man who made him brave enough to take the life he wants. This man who makes him want to be better and do more for people. He kisses Alex and it feels as sacred as any prayer. It’s a promise of love and adoration.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>----</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When the morning comes, Henry charters a plane for Alex despite how badly he wishes Alex could stay longer. He feels the promise of days to come when their visits won’t be so infrequent or short.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A symbol of this sits heavily in Henry’s pocket. He pulls Alex aside before he boards the plan and pulls out his family ring. “Listen,” he tells Alex. He presses the ring into Alex’s palm as he explains, “I want you to know. I’m sure. A thousand percent.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry smiles at the expression on Alex’s face - a mixture of shock and love. “What. I can’t-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He cuts off whatever excuse Alex has ready. “Keep it. I’m sick of wearing it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex engulfs him in a hug and whispers in his ear, “I completely fucking love you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hours later, Alex sends him a snapchat. Whether it was intentional or not, it revealed Alex placed Henry’s ring on the same chain as the key to his house in Texas. It made him feel as if he were a sort of home for Alex now. A symbol of their relationship sat right on his chest. Henry doesn’t know how he almost gave this beautiful and amazing relationship up. He’s once again grateful for Alex’s relentlessness. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If this week had taught him anything, it was that Henry would not take Alex for granted again. </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Step 17: emails and a fake date (with his sister)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In the passing weeks, Henry and Alex exchange numerous emails. </p><p> </p><p>Receiving messages from Alex like “hey, have I told you lately that you’re brave?” or “Please stay gorgeous and strong and unbelievable. I miss you I miss you I miss you I love you,” give Henry hope and happiness that could buoy him until he can see Alex again. His personal favorite might be, “When I picture you happy, I see you with your own apartment somewhere outside of the palace and a desk where you can write anthrologies of queer history. And I’m there, using up your shampoo and making you come to the grocery store with me and waking up in the same damn time zone with you every morning,” but it’s hard to pick between them all.</p><p> </p><p>It all came crashing down when news sources began contacting the Royal Families PR team asking him to comment on this secret footage leaked from the hotel security cameras during the DNC. It certainly pained Alex and Henry as “more than friends”. </p><p> </p><p>When Shaan informed Henry, it turned his blood cold. Was their charade up? Was he really about to endure public scrutiny? </p><p> </p><p>His mind began to spiral with worry. He didn’t know how his grandmother or Philip would respond. He hoped this did not ruin anything for President Claremont’s election. Henry knew Alex loved him, but would he resent Henry if this was the reason his mom did not win the election?</p><p> </p><p>The only thing that’s been keeping him sane was Bowie, Bea and Pez, and of course, Alex, who were really the only constant people in his life. If he didn’t have them in his life, he really didn’t know what he would do with his life. He was afraid of what his answer would be. To not have that constant set of people that overthrown his life in array, despite it’s blatant and constant disarray. </p><p> </p><p>He didn’t know what to think. Or feel. Or anything. He knew that he was hoping the storm would not hit him so damn quickly, but maybe that was the naive part of him saying that. That all his secrets would be locked inside the box with only he and Alex having the key to unlock it, the secrets that would never come gushing out  . . . but perhaps that was the naive part of him that he wasn’t ready to fully let go yet. </p><p> </p><p>It was the part of him that stared at his Grandmother for the first time and really seeing her. Henry had always known his Grandmother and what she stood for; but when she told to suppress the parts of himself he always was, after his father’s late passing, his perspective of her no longer was blurred, he could see clearly now. It felt like looking at your reflection for the very first time and really seeing something - really seeing somebody - and in this instance, that was when he first saw his Grandmother. Who she was behind the mask that she threw on in front of the press, the cameras, the people that followed her like a moth to a flame. </p><p> </p><p>Because, sometimes, when you loved someone you tended to forget the parts that weren’t so pretty. </p><p> </p><p>___________________________</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Hen,” Bea says, shutting the door behind her as she spoke. Her footsteps were light and agile against the floorboards, and Henry forced a smile as he watched her take a seat beside him next to the window sill. “Got you your favourite.” </p><p> </p><p>He stared at the plate of jaffa cakes spread evenly on the plate with a cup of tea in her other hand, whilst she adorned a pack of rich tea biscuits and a cup of milk she held with her free hand. </p><p> </p><p>Henry smiled. He could always count on Bea to cheer him up, even in his darkest hours. Besides, he couldn’t exactly say no to jaffa cakes and tea, could he? Especially at his current state, he needed a boost . . . anything, just something, that would however momentarily take his mind off things. </p><p> </p><p>“Thanks Bea.” </p><p> </p><p>“Gave me a reason to go down to get something from the kitchen, anyway,” Bea shrugs, dunking a rich tea biscuit in her tea. She offered him one, but he shook her head. He had nothing against rich tea biscuits, he just preferred jaffa cakes. And certainly with no milk. (that would be a food crime that Jamie Oliver would probably assist, but considering he was the same guy who put jam in his egg fried rice, Henry wasn’t sure whether Jamie Oliver was the right guy to ban that hood if it ever came to that!) </p><p> </p><p>He ate his jaffa cake excruciating slow—he knew he was doing it, because whenever he did, Bea would always give him that look—stared at the motionless sky that seemed to reflect Henry’s feelings and the internal angst that fettered inside his stomach before turning back to his phone. And unsurprisingly enough, there was nothing from Alex. </p><p> </p><p>Maybe Henry had truly lost Alex this time. He couldn’t say he could really blame him. He really couldn’t . . . </p><p> </p><p>“Henry,” Bea snapped, an edge to her voice. To anyone else, they’d probably catch shards of ice in her tone, but because it was Henry, he knew it was far from that. She wasn’t angry. She was worried. “Don’t look at that shit, okay?” </p><p> </p><p>He didn’t stop when she pulled her phone from his grasp. It didn’t take much as he let go simultaneously, with a brief whisper in the air as he did so. A sigh, really. </p><p> </p><p>“Henry, fuck them. Let them think what they want to think, they’re nothing. Okay? Remember what dad always said when we were younger: the only opinion that should matter is your own. And do you know what he’d say if he were here now?” she falters, shutting her eyes for a brief moment, enclosing her hands around Henry’s shoulders. “He would be so proud of you, like I am, okay?” </p><p> </p><p>Henry couldn’t find the strength to say anything nor did he know what to say. He pushed back the surge of emotion that threatened to crawl up his chest and wrapped his sister into a tight embrace. But, he knew, sometimes, you didn’t have to say anything. Actions did speak louder than words, after all. </p><p> </p><p>So as his world came crashing down, Henry knew, he knew that whatever happened, no matter the good, bad or ugly (and perhaps even the terrifying and obscene) he would always have Bea by his side. </p><p> </p><p>_____________________________________</p><p> </p><p>Like all novels—that very much applies to life, too—there’s always the part where the protagonist themself back up again after a major defeat. Like when Mr. Darcy discovers Lydia and Wickham and uses his power to quietly marry the pair; thus, saving the Bennet family reputation. Henry believes this is his moment. Or at least, he thinks so. </p><p> </p><p>After hours and minutes of locking himself in his room, the royal PR team apparently came in contact with the PR team from the white house and found a way to fix the mess they were stranded in. </p><p> </p><p>It was simple, really. But then again, simplicity—sometimes—had its way of turning into the opposite, so maybe it was wise if Henry shouldn’t jinx himself. </p><p> </p><p>It went like this: the scandalous pictures of Henry and Alex were quickly overturned into something platonic by a mere picture June posted on social media during the trip to texas. </p><p> </p><p>The picture cropped out Nora and made June and Henry look like the ones having the secret love affair. It quickly became one of June’s most liked pictures. The media took the picture and the headlines suddenly twisted to, “Has June Claremont-Diaz secretly had her own Prince Charming all along?”</p><p> </p><p>Old pictures surfaced from Philip’s wedding and the LA weekend. The twitter chain about Pride and Prejudice was brought up again. Any interaction between them was being scrutinized as to when their “dating timeline” began.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>It was sickening. </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Henry had lied about so many things. His grandmother presented a narrative that he was supposed to play a role in. He had cut out many essential parts of his personality to fit in. Now, he was lying about Alex. That felt more wrong than anything he had done before. Alex deserved more and better than that. This is what Henry had been afraid of all along.</p><p> </p><p>Part of him didn’t want to lie but the other half wanted to save himself and Alex from scrutiny. He wanted to protect Alex but simultaneously just wanted to tell the world who he was.</p><p> </p><p>Just like any other plan made by his grandmother, he was told he was going to D.C. to go on a fake date with June. Once again, he took up the role of the perfect prince. He was not to see or talk to Alex while in D.C. As they boarded the plane, he put on the mask of who everyone wanted Henry to be.</p><p> </p><p>He managed to call Alex in the middle of the night when he arrived. He made promises to see Henry before he left for London again. Knowing he was close to Alex should’ve offered him some comfort, but instead, he only felt pain at being so close but essentially barred from seeing Alex.</p><p> </p><p>Early the next day, he’s being whisked away to meet June somewhere in Georgetown for lunch. The White House PR team had selected this location knowing they would have a beautiful backdrop for their date. Not to mention the college students and locals who would all have their phones out ready to document the date. Henry knows somewhere that Nora and Alex did a similar fake date yesterday and it kills him. This is exactly what Henry didn’t want.</p><p> </p><p>June shows up looking absolutely beautiful and completely ready to sell this date. She entertains him the entire time with silly stories about Alex. He can only manage to smile once or twice for real. He can’t help but wish the entire time that Alex was here with him. June does admit Alex is in a car nearby waiting for their date to end. Henry suddenly becomes much more cooperative with this whole fake date. </p><p> </p><p>Finally, June pulls out her phone and tells Henry that she’s texting “him” - meaning Alex. They planned to do a sneaky car swap so Alex could see him for a few minutes. The promise of these few minutes with Alex has been enough to buoy his spirits for the last hour. </p><p> </p><p>They pull into an alley and an identical car sits there. Henry can’t move into the other car fast enough. Alex pulls on his shoulder and brings Henry close. With Alex holding him, everything feels better already. He can tell his mask has slipped off because Alex is looking at him with concern. </p><p> </p><p>Henry’s so overwhelmed with emotion he can’t even focus on Alex being here with him. </p><p> </p><p>“Hey. Hey, look at me. Hey, I’m right here.”</p><p> </p><p>His hands begin shaking violently and his breaths turn quick and shallow. Alex squeezes him tighter until he can say, “I hate it. I hate this.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know,” Alex replies.</p><p> </p><p>“It was tolerable before, somehow. When there was never-never the possibility of anything else. But, Christ, this is- it’s vile. It’s a bloody farce. And June and Nora, what, they just get to be used? Gran wanted me to bring my own photographers for this? Did you know that,” Henry forces himself to take a deep breath. Try to calm himself down. It gets caught on it’s way out and makes them both shutter, “Alex. I don’t want to do this.”</p><p> </p><p>Alex reaches to rub Henry’s face, “I know. I know. I hate it too.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not fucking fair!” His voice breaks. <em> How is Alex so okay right now? </em> Henry wonders. “My shit ancestors walked around doing a thousand times worse than any of this, and nobody cared!”</p><p> </p><p>“Baby,” Alex whispers. He cups Henry’s chin and pulls his face closer. “I know. I’m so sorry, babe. But it won’t be like this forever, okay? Promise.” </p><p> </p><p>The promises felt so empty and Henry was hopeless enough to say, “I want to believe you. I do. But I am so afraid I will never be allowed to.”</p><p> </p><p>All Alex can do is hold him and continuing promises of the future. He tells Henry he loves him over and over again. </p><p> </p><p>“Me and you and history remember?” Alex tells him.</p><p> </p><p>It made Henry also recall another quote he had once wanted to send to Alex,<em> “Love him and let him love you. Do you think anything under heaven right matters?” </em></p><p> </p><p>The words of James Baldwin were enough to bouy his spirits as he and Alex could exchange a kiss good-bye before heading their separate ways.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Chapter 18: coming out and a bottle of brandy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>As much as he wants to cling into hope after seeing Alex, Henry feels himself spiraling. He turns his phone off on flight home and doesn’t turn it on again for the next day. He makes one exception to tell Alex he landed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even though they’ve made these promises, does it really matter? Could their love really not be enough after everything? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It had certainly hurt less when he could watch Alex from afar and dream of how things could be. Now, dreaming of how things could be just caused an ache. He knew what it was like to wake up tangled with Alex, but the reality was that it wouldn’t happen for more than a night. Especially with being under the scrutiny of the media, Henry would be lucky if he saw Alex in the next three months. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a few days, Henry caved and sent Alex a few texts. He felt guilty over ignoring his messages. He didn’t want Alex to think he was sabotaging their relationship. Henry still wanted Alex more than anything, but the impossibility of their situation weighed heavily on him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry just couldn’t stand thinking about how close he was to happiness. Or was it all a mirage? He was so close to a dream, which would always be haunting him in the distance. He would forever be taunted by what he couldn’t have.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His phone buzzed with a new notification. It was an email from Alex. The message should’ve made Henry thrilled. He made a small smile before he opened it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even though Alex is clearly pissed in this, Henry can sense his love and admiration through these words. He reads it over and over again. The line “give yourself away sometimes, sweetheart. There’s so much of you” sticks with him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then, the “fucking yrs” at the end lifts an immense weight off of Henry’s chest. He feels like he can breath again for the first time in a week. Even though he has been distant, Alex’s love and affection overwhelms him. He’s reminded yet again by how much Alex truly understands him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He picks up his phone to call Alex. He’s finally brave enough to face his beautiful boyfriend.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The phone rings, but the line is busy. He sets it down only for Bea to burst in the room. She looks slightly panicked and pants like she ran in here from across the residence. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Henry, have you looked at the news?” She says in a rush. He takes in the panicked look on her face and a disquieting sensation settles over him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s instantly worried someone vandalized her car again. He hoped it was just more posts about him and June. Maybe Grandmother had told the press something ridiculous like that they were engaged.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He opens his phone to the Daily News and the headline makes his stomach drop.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“BREAKING: Photos Reveal Romantic Relationship Between Prince Henry and Alex Claremont-Diaz”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry frantically scrolled down the page to see a photo of him and Alex kissing in the back of the car just a few days ago. The windows were all tended, but alas, the windshield revealed them. They had been caught red handed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His hands began shaking immensely and Henry dropped his phone. He thought he heard himself laugh hysterically. Bea came and guided Henry towards the couch. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nothing could make this okay or go away. His grandmother was about to be royally pissed and this would be a major election scandal for Alex. Philip would give him a lecture about his horrifying behavior. The media would talk about this for months or maybe even years.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This was the worst possible scenario for their coming out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His breaths were shallow and quick. A tear may have leaked out of his eye. He put his head in his hands to steady himself. Suddenly, his vision had black spots and he felt the room swirling around him. Bea tugged his legs up onto the ottoman. He tried reaching for his phone again, but Bea slapped his hand away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She promised to update him if there was any other news, but for now she comforted Henry. She left to get water and an anti-anxiety medication. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Anything to make it stop</span>
  </em>
  <span> was what Henry had asked for. He added to it with a bottle of brandy from one of the liquor cabinets nearby.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bea had the misfortune of having to tell Henry someone had leaked their emails. Now the entire world could read their gay love affair. They could learn secrets to the Royal Family or how Henry felt about Alex just by searching the internet. These very emails that give him hope and joy were now aiding in the destruction of his life.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even worse, communication from Alex had been completely cut off. The Royal Family’s PR advised Henry not to contact anyone and the White House had released no comments yet either. What did this all mean? Was Alex going to end things now? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Something made him drowsy and slowly Henry’s thoughts shifted elsewhere. The insomnia mixed with alcohol and medication worked to make him feel horrible, yet not care about the shambles his life was currently in. Soon, Henry was daydreaming with images of him and Alex flashing through his head. Suddenly, it switched and there was Elizabeth Bennett talking about Mr. Wickham and Mr. Darcy to Jane. The whole rest of the story plays out until the part where Elizabeth bravely tells Lady Catherine de Bourgh that she will not promise to refuse Mr. Darcy if he proposes. She admits her feelings and stands her ground against the selfish Lady Catherine. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The part plays over and over again in his mind. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sharp knocking breaks Henry from his reverie. Shouting comes from the other side, but even through the muffled door they can hear Philip say,”Let me in! I need to talk some sense into Henry!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sips again from the bottle of brandy as Bea shouts at him to go away. His guy twists as Philip continues to knock and shout. Finally, they can hear his footsteps retreating.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> He returns about thirty minutes later and repeats the whole ordeal. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s all too much and Henry can feel his chest tighten again. He can’t bear the idea of leaving this room. Sooner or later though, reality would be waiting for him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>David is sitting loyally at his feet and Bea offers to make him some tea. Shaan continues to quietly update them on the situation as he receives updates from the staff. Apparently Philip broke a vase, Martha won’t speak to Philip now, and grandmother was already trying to spin the story.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Moments later, a sharp ring goes through the room. Belatedly, Henry realizes it’s an incoming phone call. He watches as Shaan pulls out a different phone than the one he normally uses and answers the call. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry can almost hear the shrill tone at the other end of the line even though Shaan is several feet away. He's quickly reaching over and pushing the phone to Henry’s ear.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hello,” Henry manages to mumble into the phone. There’s no way Shaan would put a reporter on with him right?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sweetheart,” is the response. The voice is warm, familiar, and filled with love. Only one person speaks to Henry like that. Most of his anxiety melted away just hearing Alex’s voice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi love. Are you okay?” Henry’s gripping the phone like it’s his life line, and really it is. It holds his one connection to the person who matters the most. To the person who makes him brave and true.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, are you kidding me? I’m fine, are you okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry looks for the right words. He’s not sure Alex would be comforted that he just spent the last day or so passed out after taking anxiety medication. So instead, he says, “I’m managing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How bad is it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Philip broke a vase that belonged to Anne Boleyn, Gran ordered a communication lockdown, and Mum hasn’t spoken to anyone. But er-  other than that. All things considered. It’s er.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know. I’ll be there soon.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His mind wants to worry that Alex is coming to break up with him, but his heart knows Alex feels forever about him. They had always wanted to come out one day. Henry musters up what’s left of his courage and tells him, “I’m not sorry. That people know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Henry. . .I”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I talked to my mom-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know the timing isn’t ideal-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suddenly they’re both talking over each other. Alex halts the conversation, “Hang on. Are we, um, are we both asking the same thing?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That depends. Were you going to ask me if I want to tell the truth?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I was.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then, yes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You want that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know if I would have chosen it yet, but it’s out there now, and . . . I won’t lie. Not about this. Not about you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I fucking love you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I love you too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just hold on until I get there. We’re gonna figure this out.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I will.” Henry promises. They end the call. Even though Bea and Shaan overheard the whole thing, he played back the conversation anyways. No going back now. Henry will not lie about Alex, the most sacred and special piece of his heart.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry turns to Bea and Shaan. For the first time since the news broke, he doesn’t feel completely ill. He feels ready to tell the whole world Alex is his. He was doing what he should’ve done long ago. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He recalled what he had told the little girl in the hospital. He remembered saying, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>I always liked Luke. he’s brave and good, and he’s the strongest Jedi of them all. I think Luke is proof that it doesn't matter where you come from or who your family is - you can always be great if you’re true to yourself</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was past time to stand up to his grandmother and Philip. They could try to pressure him, but he would not break to their will this time. It’s his moment to make history with Alex. He just had to hang on until he got there.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sometime, a few hours later, there’s a soft knock on the door. It sounds different to them than Philip’s three demanding knocks that he be allowed in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Regardless, Bea gets up, walks to the door and says, “I told you to stay away-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry watches as she drops the door open and stands aside. His heart races as he hopes for what this means. “Oh Alex, I’m so sorry, I thought you were Philip.” She crushes him into a hug and tells him she’s glad he made it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He smiles weakly at Alex and greets him with, “Bit short for a stormtrooper.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex’s laugh is both hysterical and bright. He doesn’t remember moving, but he’s in Alex’s arms suddenly. He pulls Alex in as close as he can and grips his neck live a life-line, because again, that’s exactly what Alex is to him. He’s the only person daring enough to push Henry past his self-set, stubborn limits to make him want. To want more than just a life of fineness, but to want their relationship enough to sacrifice everything else. To choose his own happiness over a life of duty.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex tries to apologize for it all and Henry refuses to hear a word of it. “You’re unbelievable,” Alex remarks before kissing the underside of Henry’s jaw in the way he loves. The tension begins to leak out of Henry.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They somehow make their way to the floor with Henry’s head in Alex’s lap. He catches Alex up on it all, Philip showing up to yell at Henry, Grandmother trying to do away with it all, Bea doing her best to protect Henry. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s not sure when, but he finally manages to fall asleep. Now that Alex is here, he can take whatever Philip and his grandmother want to bring. He will be brave and fight for them. With Alex by his side, he feels peace.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Step 19: the final showdown and getting the guy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Henry was correct in that this would be a bigger showdown than Luke Skywalker battling Darth Vader. This was more dramatic than Mr. Darcy coming for Mr. Wickham or the showdown with Elizabeth and Lady Catherine de Bourgh. It was Book 7 Battle of Hogwarts epic. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The best part was, Henry knew he had won. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex and Henry entered the room to meet with grandmother knowing Bea was solidly in their corner. Henry had already had it out with Philip, but when he threatened to abdicate, Philip backed down. As grandmother began a speech about his unnatural tendencies, mum stepped in and began arguing on Henry’s behalf. They continue trying to talk Henry out of it. If it was possible, the argument heats up as Mary begins criticizing Catherine for being idealistic and supporting Henry.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bea disrupts them with irrefutable proof that Mary and Philip are the ones in the wrong. A BBC headline prominently sits on the screen with “World wide support pours in for Prince Henry and First Son of the US. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suddenly images of support flash through. There are droves of people holding signs of support. Making murals for them. There’s a picture with a group of people wearing shirts that say, “History huh?” and Henry is immediately taken back to their emails.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He feels peace settle over him as Catherine walks over to the curtain and draws it back. Behind it reveals the most wonderful site - masses of people carrying pride flags, American flags, confetti, all in support of him and Alex. His heart swells looking out at the crowd of people. He knows now just how wrong his grandmother was. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sure, there will be criticism of him as is common for public figures. But Henry would much rather it be over something actually important. The choice between an opportunity to have a real and relationship with Alex versus maintaining this perfect price image is an easy one.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry slowly walks over to the widow with Alex and continues to watch the scene. He knows it must mean so much to Alex too.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Next thing he knows, Catherine is crushing him into her chest in hug. It’s almost as emotional as the scene laying before them. This is the first day in years he can remember her showing any sort of strength. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Grandmother tries to interject and ruin the moment by asserting, “This is hardly representative of how the country as a whole will respond.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jesus Christ, mum,” Catherine counters.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A heated debate spikes between grandmother and mum as they battle out what Mary can assert over their family. Catherine is showing more fire and courage than Henry can remember. It’s been a long time coming, but Henry’s glad to have her on their side.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Philip tries to interject, Bea pours tea on his lap and forces him out of the room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s just Alex, Catherine, Mary, and Henry now for the finals showdown. Henry stares up to meet grandmother’s eyes and that’s when he gets it. She’s afraid. She’s spent years crafting this image and now all the secrets are out. She’s been exposed as a fraud. There’s no more intimidation tactics or people left to pay off. It’s clear that at least a small portion of people support Henry. She’s all out of arguments. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I suppose. I suppose you don’t leave me much of a choice, do you?” Mary says. It’s about as much of admitting defeat as Henry supposes she will allow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you have a choice, Mum. You’ve always had a choice. Perhaps today you’ll make the right one.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It confirms again to Henry that they had won. They left the room and Henry felt elated instantly. He kept sneaking glances at Alex as they walked. Henry didn’t make it down the corridor before he pulled Alex aside and kissed him and said, “I love you. I love you. I love you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It sounded better than ever before now that it was out in the open. It didn’t matter who saw them, they could just be.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately, Alex still had to return home for campaigning. So after a short afternoon of celebrating, he watched as Alex left for the airstrip. It felt odd to be parted from Alex after having such an emotional few days. He went from the lowest lows to the highest highs in a matter of 24 hours. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His phone went off with a notification ding as he saw Alex tagged him in a post with the caption, “Never tell me the odds.” A shiver ran through him as he read these words linked to a picture of him and Alex as Han and Leia. Henry was again overwhelmed with the feeling of love and support. For again getting to know that it was okay to love Alex. Nothing about him was wrong and broken. Despite grandmother’s and Philip’s words, Henry had every right to love Alex and love him openly. Things that shine bright aren’t meant to be kept in the dark. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>____________________________</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As if the end of 2020 couldn’t become more dramatic, Alex calls Henry to fill him in that the Richard's campaign set up. Henry wants to be angry that someone would take advantage of them like that, but really, he’s grateful it paved the way for them being out about their relationship.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was a horrible invasion of privacy, but it was effective. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now, Henry was being flown out to support Alex in the speech he was giving about their relationship. He’s being escorted to the South Lawn when he first spots Alex. He’s looking at him with gleeful laughter. It’s a site Henry can only recall from their night spent in Paris when they got wine drunk for the first time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he approaches Alex, he asks what’s going on. All Alex can do is smile widely and say, “My life is a cosmic joke and you’re not a real person.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Confused, Henry wonders if he heard Alex wrong and yells, “what?” over the noise.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex shouts back, “I said you look great, baby!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As per usual, Henry melts at the nickname. Another perk of this whole being outed ordeal was going to be hearing this more frequently. They sneak off together before Zahra drags Henry away to get “camera ready”. Henry selects to wear a purple silk tie for this press conference. It symbolized royalty and pride, but would also be interesting enough that Alex wouldn’t later criticize him for. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He walks back to rejoin Alex. Seconds before he’s about to go on, Alex grabs him by the tie and presses a finger to his collarbone. He looks up into Henry’s eyes and says, “You are the absolute worst idea I’ve ever had.” Henry kisses him and then it’s time for Alex’s speech. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A laugh escapes his mouth, all clumsy and Alex-like, pulling Henry to him, fingers gently touching the back of Henry’s neck. His heartbeat stretches out for miles and he even hears a thousand miles by Vanessa Carlson erupt in his head as the seconds tick past like quicksand. Henry’s lips brush over Alex’s forehead and he feels Alex flutter his eyes shut, and for a brief second, it’s them in a hotel room, in Paris, in all the places they met and knew each other - and knew intimate part of themselves that they never allowed anybody else to see - the secret places where they could be together; the crowd be damned. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But then Henry remembers. They didn’t hide behind closed doors anymore. Henry didn’t have to hide anymore, nor did Alex. And Henry could now love the boy he’s always loved in public, and just from the twist of his lips. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then Alex kisses him, and Henry swears he forgets the world for a short while, before walking towards the sound of the crowd that possesses a lazy smile that crawls across his lips. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I am, and always have been—first, last, and always—a child of America.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You raised me. I grew up in the pastures and hills of Texas, but I had been to thirty-four states before I learned how to drive. When I caught the stomach flu in the fifth grade, my mother sent a note to school written on the back of a holiday memo from Vice President Biden. Sorry, sir—we were in a rush, and it was the only paper she had on hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I spoke to you for the first time when I was eighteen, on the stage of the Democratic National Convention in Philadelphia, when I introduced my mother as the nominee for president. You “cheered for me. I was young and full of hope, and you let me embody the American dream: that a boy who grew up speaking two languages, whose family was blended and beautiful and enduring, could make a home for himself in the White House.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You pinned the flag to my lapel and said, “We’re rooting for you.” As I stand before you today, my hope is that I have not let you down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Years ago, I met a prince. And though I didn’t realize it at the time, his country had raised him too.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The truth is, Henry and I have been together since the beginning of this year. The truth is, as many of you have read, we have both struggled every day with what this means for our families, our countries, and our futures. The truth is, we have both had to make compromises that cost us sleep at night in order to afford us enough time to share our relationship with the world on our own terms.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>We were not afforded that liberty.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But the truth is, also, simply this: love is indomitable. America has always believed this. And so, I am not ashamed to stand here today where presidents have stood and say that I love him, the same as Jack loved Jackie, the same as Lyndon loved Lady Bird. Every person who bears a legacy makes the choice of a partner with whom they will share it, whom the American people will hold beside them in hearts and memories and history books. America: He is my choice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Like countless other Americans, I was afraid to say this out loud because of what the consequences might be. To you, specifically, I say: I see you. I am one of you. As long as I have a place in this White House, so will you. I am the First Son of the United States, and I’m bisexual. History will remember us.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If I can ask only one thing of the American people, it’s this: Please, do not let my actions influence your decision in November. The decision you will make this year is so much bigger than anything I could ever say or do, and it will determine the fate of this country for years to come. My mother, your president, is the warrior and the champion that “each and every American deserves for four more years of growth, progress, and prosperity. Please, don’t let my actions send us backward. I ask the media not to focus on me or on Henry, but on the campaign, on policy, on the lives and livelihoods of millions of Americans at stake in this election.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And finally, I hope America will remember that I am still the son you raised. My blood still runs from Lometa, Texas, and San Diego, California, and Mexico City. I still remember the sound of your voices from that stage in Philadelphia. I wake up every morning thinking of your hometowns, of the families I’ve met at rallies in Idaho and Oregon and South Carolina. I have never hoped to be anything other than what I was to you then, and what I am to you now—the First Son, yours in actions and words. And I hope when Inauguration Day comes again in January, I will continue to be.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry watches as the crowd screamed Alex’s name, applauses breaking, banners and flags thrown into the air. He couldn’t help the pride that rose up inside him standing from the sidelines, his lips spread into a full blown smile. (He was surprised that he didn’t join the crowd and yell out, “yeah, that’s my boyfriend!” and, or, “History will remember us!”) </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was right, though, Henry thought, watching Alex walking back from the stage, smiling that smile that made Henry’s heart lurch inside his chest, </span>
  <em>
    <span>history will remember us</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>___________________________________</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Something extraordinary happens twenty four hours after Alex’s speech: a picture. A </span>
  <em>
    <span>picture</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry is situated at the residence with Alex and his family, eyes watching the large television screen with intent. Amy’s at the front of the crowd of CNN’s live stream </span>
  <span>wearing June’s yellow ‘History, huh’ t-shirt and a trans flag pin. Cash stands beside her with Amy’s wide on his shoulders, a pansexual pin pinned against her jacket. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then: Richard’s face on CNN, voicing his concern about President Claremont’s ability to remain impartial on matters of traditional family values. And then followed by Senator Oscar Diaz, responding through satellite, that President Claremont's value was to uphold the constitution, and that the white house was built by slaves not our forefathers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> And then, what Rafael Luna did. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry could barely react to the events in such words strung and woven with articulacy and coherency - he was far too astounded to. He could only breathe the words that came to him like a record track on a loop, </span>
  <em>
    <span>History will remember us</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
  <em>
    <span> Indeed it will. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry soon gets a room in the white house while he’s there — at least before he gets whisked back to England to do some damage control. It’s nice and a little cosy, but he barely paid much attention to the room, since his mind was preoccupied in other things. Other things that included his boyfriend whose windswept hair, dark eyes, pink, chapped mouth—his absolute disaster of a boyfriend, that was. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s quite . .  aggressively pink, innit?” Henry mutters sleepily. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t much of an exaggeration of a fib, really. There were pink rugs and beddings, pink splattered across the walls, and well . .  everything in the room is splashed with pink, aside from the ensuite in the corner of the room. And the lamp. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He agreed to sleep in this room because he respects Alex’s mother, which only amuses Alex greatly. Though, Henry made no complaints when Alex sneaks in at Ungodly hours at night, peppering kisses all over his skin, laughing at terrible jokes at four, getting their own midnight (or really, four am) snacks and whispering softly against themselves before falling asleep, limbs pressed against each other. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Argh, hello,” Henry mumbles, hips hitching at the intimate contact. He doesn’t see Alex’s face but he’s sure that he’s sporting a devilish grin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Morning.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Time’s it?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Seven thirty two.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Plane in two hours.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex makes a small sound and turns back to Henry, something utterly gentle and delicate, and something that makes Henry’s heart churn, his fingers hovering over Henry’s cheekbone. Henry’s eyes fluttered shut, the breeze blowing against the jut of his jaw. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You sure you don’t want me to come with you?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry’s face is squished against a pillow. “You’re not the one who slagged off the crown and his entire family in the emails everyone in the world has read. I’ve got to handle that on my own before you come back over.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s fair,” Alex says, nodding. “But soon?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry grins. “Absolutely. You’ve got the royal suitor pictures to take, the Christmas cards to sign . . . Oh, I wonder if they’ll have you do a line of skincare products like Martha—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stop,” Alex says, and Henry laughs. And then, Alex pokes him in the ribs. “You’re enjoying this too much.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m enjoying it the perfect amount,” Henry says. “But, in all seriousness, it’s . . . frightening but a bit nice. To do this on my own. I’ve never gotten to do that much, well, ever.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Alex responds with a smile. “I’m proud of you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘Ew,” Henry says in a flat American accent, and he laughs, and Alex jabs him lightly with his elbow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But then, Henry reels him, his hand touching the back of Alex’s neck, and Alex complies, and their limbs tangle together in an array; like the earth orbiting around the sun. He tangles his finger in Alex’s hair that caught light from the stream of sunlight, and watches the flutter of his eyelashes, as he towers over him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s difficult to pinpoint the words he really feels. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Love, love, love</span>
  </em>
  <span>, what a truly complex thing indeed—but it didn’t matter. None of it mattered. He only knew how he felt, and he knew Alex felt the same. There weren’t oceans between the two of them and they now fit like two sides of the same coin—Alex was the only person who really understood him—and their love spoke in different ways. The kiss on his spine. The way Alex told him a joke in the morning. Alex going out to those ‘Jabba cakes’ for him (if Alex were someone else, he’d probably break up with him for insulting his favourite comfort food) him comforting him in his own Alex-like way. What of a disaster he was. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So, when Henry left, it was okay. He felt okay, this time, because he knew he was coming back. Alex was coming back. To him. He was going back to Alex. And that things were going to be okay. Despite how messy it was with the family situation, he always had Alex. And Alex would always have him. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. step 20: the election, a key, and a happy ending</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you guys all so much for reading! So sad that we reached the last chapter. All of your comments were so kind and we can't thank you enough for all of them. Enjoy the final chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <span>(Four Weeks Later) </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let me get this out of your hair, love.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Mum</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Henry says, turning into the same colour as a rose petal. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Soz, am I embarrassing you?” Catherine says, her glasses on the tip of her nose as she arranges Henry’s hair. “You’ll thank me when you’ve not got a great cowlick in your official portrait.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Considering Henry and Alex are in a courtship now, he was expected to be in the portraits with Henry, which he probably was a bit apprehensive about, not that Henry could blame him; it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>a lot</span>
  </em>
  <span>. But Alex merely said he was all in, so yes, he was willing to torture himself with being in a God damn portrait and have his face shoved in chocolate bars and whatnot. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Which brought them here: </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex stands there in brown leather loafers, slim fit chinos, a loose collared Ralph Lauren Chambray—styled by the White House stylists, who thankfully knew Alex’s fashion sense, and he didn’t have to have the Royals dressing him in something rather ridiculous and </span>
  <em>
    <span>not him</span>
  </em>
  <span> at all. Henry’s in a burberry button down which is tucked into dark jeans, and a navy cardigan. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Catherine fusses over Henry, fingers moving around his hair, making sure he looks presentable for the cameras (photos that would be seen all over the world, in tabloids, magazines, online, probably) before they’re taking photos in different angles, multiple stances, with different sort of smiles to match the flash of the camera. And Alex stumbles around the fact that he is actually here. Here. With Henry. In Hyde Park. In front of everyone. Holding Henry’s hand above his knee. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If Alex from this time last year could see this,” Alex says, leaning into Henry’s ear. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry grins mischievously. “He’d say, ‘Oh, I’m in love with Henry? That must be why I’m such a berk to him all the time.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey!” Alex replies, and Henry laughs at his own joke and Alex’s annoyance, one arm curling around Alex’s shoulders. Then, Alex laughs along with him, infectious and bright, trampeding over anyone within hearing range. And then the photographer shoots the final shots, and they’re done. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They meet Bea at the Orangery, where a dozen of her event planning team scatter around like ants. She speeds down a row of chairs, hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, speaking in a clipped tone about Cullen Skink. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So yes, as usual, everything at the Royal Palace was everything but calm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> “What the hell is Cullen Skink?” Alex asks when Bea gets off the phone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Smoke Haddock Chowder,” she says, raising an eyebrow. “Enjoy your first royal show, Alex?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ales smirks at her. “It wasn’t too bad.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mum is </span>
  <em>
    <span>beyond</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Henry says. “She offered to edit my manuscript this morning. It’s like she’s trying to make up for the five years of absentee parenting all at once. Which, of course, I love her very much, and I appreciate the effort, but, Christ.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bea shakes her head. “She’s trying, H. She’s been on a bench for a while, let her warm up a bit.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knows this. But still. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know,” he says. “How are things over here?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you know,” she says, waves her phone in the air. “Just the maiden voyage of my controversial fund which all future endeavours will be judged, so, no, pressure at all. I’m only slightly cross with you for not making it a Henry Foundation-Beatrice fund double feature so I can unload half the stress onto you. All this fundraising for sobriety is going to drive me to drink.” Sher pats Alex on the air and grins. “That’s drunk humor for you, Alex.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry and Bea both an excruciatingly stressful and busy month, which was almost as busy as their mother. There were too many decisions to be made that couldn’t be done with a flick of a wrist, or a quick, indecisive decision: would they address Bea’s revelations in the e-mails (yes), would Henry be enlisted (no), and, above all of these, how could this be transformed into a positive? The answer had been something that Henry and Bea both came up with, twin philanthropic efforts under their own individual names. Bea’s, a charity organisation supporting addiction recovery programs all over the UK, and Henry’s, an LGBT rights foundation. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And Bea was hosting her first solo fundraiser, where she would be playing a eight thousand ticket concert with a live band with celebrity guests tonight. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Man, I wish I could stay for the show,” Alex says. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s a shame Henry was too busy signing papers with Auntie Pezza all week to learn some sheet music or we could have fired our pianist.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a beat of silence before Alex raises a sharp eyebrow, and asks, “Papers?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry shoots a glare at Bea in efforts to get her not to spill the beans that hoped would remain a surprise. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“For the Youth Shelters,” she finishes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Beatrice</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he sends her an annoyed look. “It was going to be a surprise.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” the words slip out, and she occupies herself with her phone. “Oops.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex turns to him. “What’s going on?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry sighs. This was meant to be a secret, he thinks. He shakes his head. “Well. We were going to wait to announce it—and to tell you, obviously—until, after the election, so not to step on your moment. But . .” He places his hands in his pockets, heart tripping and stumbling inside his chest. And then he smiles, a shy sort, but a proud one nonetheless that he attempts to subside. “Mum and I agreed the foundation shouldn’t be national, that there was work to be done all over the world, and I specifically wanted to focus on homeless queer youth. So, Pez, signed all our Okonjo Foundation Youth shelters over.” He bites his lip, bouncing on his heels to hide the broad smile that threatens to break out. “You’re looking at the proud father of four worldwide soon-to-be sheltered for disenfranchised queer teenagers.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> Alex falters, a brief and short beat as he takes in Henry’s words, until a smile breaks across his face. It’s an infectious kind that songs write about, that people read in romance novels and movies, and Henry can’t help but smile back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh my God, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>bastard</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Alex practically yells, throwing his arms around Henry’s neck. Henry smiles against his hold, and wraps his hands around his back, chin tucked against his shoulder. “That’s amazing. I stupid love you. Wow.” Then, he pulls back, eyes wide, “Wait, oh my God, this means the one in Brooklyn too? Right?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, it does.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t you tell me you wanted to be hands on with the foundation?” Alex says, “Don’t you think maybe direct supervision might be helpful while it gets off the ground?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alex,” Henry shakes his head. “I can’t move to New York.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bea glances up from her phone and raises an eyebrow at him.  “Why not?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t really an absurd question. But, quite frankly, the words sounded pretty absurd when Bea said it. His mind went everywhere. The palace. His Grandmother. The fact that he was Prince of England. </span>
  <em>
    <span>New York</span>
  </em>
  <span>? It sounded pretty impossible—something he could never in a million years. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Because I’m the prince of—” Henry waves his fingers through the air and motions at the Orangery, at Kensington, spluttering, “Here!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bea merely shrugged. “And? It doesn’t have to be permanent.“You spent a month of your gap year talking to yaks in Mongolia, H. It’s hardly unprecedented.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry stutters. It makes absolute perfect sense, so he really doesn’t have anything to say to that? But it wasn’t like Bea was ever wrong about these things anyway. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’d still hardly see you, would I?” he says, “If you’re at work in DC all the time, beginning your meteoric rise to the political stratosphere?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phillip interrupts before Alex gets a chance to respond. Phillip strides across the lawn, looking kept and very </span>
  <em>
    <span>Phillip-like</span>
  </em>
  <span> as usual, wearing a polished smile like his own armour. Henry stifles a sigh and straightens up. Two weeks ago, Phillip apologised to both Bea and Henry for the years since their fathers death. For turning into an abusive self righteous wanker under the manipulation from their Grandmother. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But it wasn’t like one apologies could make up all the pain Phillip inflicted upon Bea and Henry over the years. They could forgive mayhaps (that was still a work in progress) but forgetting? Probably not. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Phillip,” Bea says coolly, the first one to reply to him. “To what do we owe the pleasure?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just had a meeting at Buckingham,” Phillip says. The </span>
  <em>
    <span>Queen</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The hidden meaning behind his words hangs in air like smoke. And then, “Wanted to come by and see if you needed help with anything.” He glances down at Bea’s Wellington boots beside his dress shoes in the grass, and adds, “you know, you don’t have to do that—we’ve got plenty of stuff that can do the grunt work for you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Bea says proudly, arching her eyebrow at Philip, daring him to challenge her. “I want to do it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right,” Phillip says. “Of course. Well, er. Is there anything I can help with?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not really, Phillip.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“All right,” Phillip nods, clearing his throat. “Henry. Alex. Portraits go all right?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry blinks. Out of all the things that he expected Phillip to say, he definitely didn’t expect this. It takes a few seconds for him to regain his posture and for a somewhat articulate response to form. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” he says. “Er, yes. It was all right. A bit awkward, you know, having to sit there for ages.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I remember,” Philip says. “When Mazzy and I did our first ones, I had this horrible rash on my arse from some idiotic poison-oak prank one of my uni friends had played on me that week, and it was all I could do to hold still and not rip my trousers off in the middle of Buckingham, much less try to take a nice photo. I thought she was going to murder me. Here’s hoping yours turns out better.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He chuckles a little awkwardly. Alex scratches his nose. Bea doesn’t really look at anything, really, except her feet as if it was the most interesting thing she’s ever come across. Henry stares unblinking at him, unsure how to respond, to be frank. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>”Well, anyway, good luck, Bea.”  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phillip tucks his hands in his pockets, walking away, and they all stare at his retreating back until it vanishes from the hedges. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you think I should have let him have a go at the Cullen Skink man for me?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not yet,” Henry says, shaking his head. “Give him another six months. He hasn’t earned it yet.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phillip would need to do better than offering help and an apology to earn their trust and forgiveness back—but, then again, forgiveness didn’t equal forgetting. Henry learnt that a long time ago. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>_____________________________________</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>HENRY: </b>
  <span>pilot says we’re having visibility issues?? May have to reroute and land elsewhere</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>HENRY</b>
  <span>: Landing in Dallas? Is that far?? I’ve no bloody clue about American Geography</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>HENRY:</b>
  <span> Shaan has informed me this is, in fact, far. Landing soon. Will try to take off again once the weather clears.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>HENRY</b>
  <span>: I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. How are things on your end?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>ALEX</b>
  <span>: things are shit. please get your ass here asap i’m stressing tf out.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>____________________________________</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry is positive he’s irked Shann with the constant tapping of his foot against the plane, his nervousness and anxiety getting the best of him. But he can’t find it in him to be concerned about that, all his thoughts are drowned by Alex. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he finally gets there, Alex is in the middle of his speech, and Henry can’t help but feel a sense of deja vu. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That was brilliant,” Henry says, smiling. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your tie—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yes,” he says, “yellow rose of Texas, is it? I read that was a thing. Thought it might be good luck.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alex doesn’t say anything. But it was then Henry really knew actions spoke louder than words—so when Alex pulled him in, grasping the tie with the back of his hand, kissing him senselessly, as though the world was going to combust at any given second—he read the between the lines, the lines that were on the tip of Alex’s tongue: I love you, I love you, I love you. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re late, your Highness,” Alex says, pulling away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry merely laughs, a bright smile twisted across his lips. “Actually, I’m just in time for the upswing, it would seem.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then Alex grabs Henry’s hand, leading him into the wave of round of calls, and the big rush. The hours are stressful yet pass quickly, people moving around, voices calling out to each other, the crowd pulsating with electricity. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One moment Henry is talking to June and fixing the braid she pulled out due to her anxiety, and the next he’s anxiously tapping his foot when they announce they’re about to call Florida. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come on, you backyard-shooting-range motherfuckers,” Zahra mutters. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did she just say backyard shooting range?” Henry whispers, “is that a real thing a person can have?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You really have a lot to learn about America, mijo,” Oscar says. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The screen flashes red—RICHARDS—and a collective groan grinds through the room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nora, what’s the math?” June says, rounding on her, a slightly frantic look in her eyes. “I majored in nouns.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Nora says, “at this point we just need to get over 270 or make it impossible for Richards to get over 270—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” June interrupts, “I am familiar with how the electoral college works—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You asked!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t mean to remediate me!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re kinda hot when you get all indignant.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can we focus?” Alex says. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Nora says. She shakes out her hands. “So, right now we can get over 270 with Texas or Nevada and Alaska combined. Richards has to get all three of those. So nobody is out of the game yet.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, we have to get Texas now?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not unless they call Nevada,” Nora says, “which never happens this early.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nora barely finishes her sentence when the screen flashes once more: NEVADA: RICHARDS. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you fucking kidding me?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, now it’s essentially—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Whoever wins Texas,” Alex pauses, and then, “wins the presidency.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s a beat, and then June says, “I’m gonna go stress eat the cold pizza the polling people have. Sound good? Cool.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everyone is frantically pacing, nerves scattered all over the place, voices speaking all over each other, until June storms in, her hand on another girl’s arm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Y’all,” June says breathlessly, a glint of hope glimmering in her eye. “Molly just—she came from—fuck, just, tell them!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We think you have the votes.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nora drops her phone. Ellen steps over her to reach Molly’s arm, and says, “you think or you know?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘I mean, we’re pretty sure—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How sure?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, they just counted another 10,000 ballots from Harris County—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh my God—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait, look—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And after a moment of absolute stressful silence, (did we win or did we lose) the screen flashes blue. Crystal blue. Blue as a lake. Bluer than clear water. Toothpaste blue. Thirty eight votes for Claremont, leading a grand total of three hundred and six. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the moments after, Henry hears nothing but thunderous sound of applause and screaming of joy, of happiness, of relief, and in the next moment, Alex kisses him. Alex kisses him, smiling against him, and then shoves him at his family, still grinning. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The nets are cut from the ceiling, and the sounds of joy and happiness fill the room. And Henry grins. Only this time, when he feels the faint flash of a camera, it’s genuine. Nora screams at the top of her lungs, Alex staggers against the throng of bodies and wraps June in a embrace whose crying, Luna is throwing pamphlets at everyone—Cash dances on the venue chairs without a care in the world, Amy facetiming her wife, yelling into the phone whose voice was drowned by the volume of the room; and Zahra and Shaan were making out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then Alex gets hoved into Henry’s chest, and Henry doesn’t say anything and just smiles, bright and wide. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I need to tell you something,” Henry says. “I brought a brownstone. In Brooklyn.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I did.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then Zahra announces the victory speech that would happen in a quarter of an hour. Everyone scrambles out to the stage. Henry stutters. Stumbles, really. He stays back behind the curtain—he doesn’t want to impose. This isn’t his moment; and he doesn’t.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But then Alex calls him then, motioning for him to come up, a silent reminder that Henry was a part of this too—he was a part of his family as well. He buttons his suit jacket and steps on stage beside Alex who wraps an arm around him, his other arm around June. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Four years ago, in 2016, we stood at a precipice as a nation. There were those who would have seen us stumble backward into hatred and vitriol and prejudice, who wanted to reignite old embers of division within our country’s very soul. You looked “hem square in the eye and said, “No. We won’t.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You voted instead for a woman and a family with Texas dirt under their shoes, who would lead you into four years of progress, of carrying on a legacy of hope and change. And tonight, you did it again. You chose me. And I humbly, humbly thank you.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And my family—my family thanks you too. My family, made up of the children of immigrants, of people who love in defiance of expectations or condemnation, of women determined never to back down from what’s right, a braid of histories that stands for the future of America. My family. Your First Family. We intend to do everything we can, for the next four years and the years beyond, to continue making you proud.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sound of applause comes after, the confetti falling like rain, and then Henry feels Alex grab him by the arm, telling him to follow him. It feels like the part of a movie where the main character gets their happily ever after—something Henry hasn’t dreamed of ever happening—but he’s wasn’t complaining. It was a big moment. For him. For Alex. For his family. For America. For the entire world. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This moment, this beautiful, wonderful moment was something History books would then write about—something that would be remembered years in the making. And nobody could take this moment away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry doesn’t know where Alex is taking him and only obliges. He passes Liam and Spencer and doesn’t ask about what the six pack thing was, only following after Alex in a perplexed daze and only thinks how he would follow Alex anywhere. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I am whenever you are</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the bubble of thought pressed against his soft chafed heart that was reserved for the boy standing before with a look of determination crossing his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They cross the bridge and they come across bars swarmed with people calling Ellen’s name, wearing History t-shirts with Alex’s face tattooed on them, waving Texas flags, American flags, Mexican flags, pride flags. Music reaches every end of the busy streets, which grow even louder and vibrant when the two of them reach the capitol, when someone climbs up the front steps and blasts out Nobody Can Stop Us Now by StarShip. And the then sky thunders with the sound of fireworks that were almost as loud as American’s celebrating their victories. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It takes a grand total of twenty minutes until they reach their destination. Alex takes him on a curb in a Neighbourhood and shows where to park his bike, and speaks of something—a life that Henry never knew he could have—and Henry watches his silhouette on the pavement, and then takes in Alex’s smiling face and then lets the sight of the house take him away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s like taking in a dream, a fantasy, that he’s always had. He breathes it all in; he breathes in the yellow siding that reminds him of a stream of sunlight, the big bay windows, the handprints sitting on the sidewalk. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s no fireworks, no confetti, no music. Just family homes. Something normal. Normalcy. Something that Henry has always craved since he was young. Something he’s always imagined . . .</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But it wasn’t a dream. Not anymore. It was real. And Alex was real and so was Henry. They were real. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Alex says at last, smiling at Henry. And Henry who turns him, speechless, eyes almost as bright as his smile. “We </span>
  <em>
    <span>won</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry reaches for him and takes his hand in one singular motion, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards. “Yeah. We won.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then Alex reaches for his key, and Henry watches as it gleams in the moonlight, his heart stuttering wordlessly as Alex unlocks the door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And he smiles, following after Alex, shutting the door behind him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’re together, and the rest of it is History. And History will remember them. </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <a href="https://crypticupids.tumblr.com/post/625990528507478016/how-to-fall-for-your-enemy-in-20-steps-henry-had">find the social media moodboards and fic graphics here </a>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>if you have any questions, or, and, would like a chat, come find us on tumblr: <a href="http://saintcardans.tumblr.com/">saintcardans</a>, <a href="https://6-impossiblethings.tumblr.com/">6-impossiblethings</a></p><p>updates are every sunday</p></blockquote></div></div>
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